


Mad World

by Sophia_Bee



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan thinks Blair has betrayed him and leaves NYC with Serena. Blair chases after him, starting a cascade of events that will change the two of them forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> of all the Dan and Blair fics I've written, this one is at the top of my list of favorites.

Blair steps off the plane into the bright lights of the airport. She stops, her hand gripping the handle of her overnight bag and for a moment she can't remember where she is or how she got there. It's like a dream where she's standing still and everyone moves around her at warp speed, people stream around her, down the concourse, businessmen hurrying to meetings and parents dragging children with sticky hands and friends who are on vacation chattering away. She barely sees any of them. Blair just stands there until something startles her, a brush on her shoulder or some random thought, and she remembers why she's here, and she takes a step forward then another and another.

The air is cool and stale and the sun outside shines brightly on filtered glass, casting strange shapes across the modern art tile floor of the concourse floor that Blairs shoes click across. It looks hot and dusty outside and the horizon is lined with a brown haze, lines of brown dry hills extending forever.

She's not sure how she got here. The last twenty four hours were a blur.

She doesn't have any other luggage. Just the one bag she'd packed, and Dorota had stood in the doorway of her bedroom watching as tears streamed down Blair's face, just watching, knowing there was nothing she could do to help. There was nothing she could say, nothing that could make this better.

Blair found her way to the rental car counter and slapped a credit card down. The woman behind the counter had her hair swept up in a bun and her make-up looked nice and her company uniform of navy vest and slacks were neat and pressed. She said something about upgrading and maybe they could get her a convertible, and Blair just answered yes, not really caring about anything. Thirty minutes later she was strapped into a rental car that smelled of upholstery and sanitizer, squinting into the California sun and wishing she hadn't left her sunglasses in New York.

He was gone when she got to the loft. Blair's hands shook as she fumbled under the mat searching for the spare key, and when she finally found it, she could barely managed to insert it into the lock. She felt the heavy click of the ancient dead bolt then slowly pushed the door open.

"Dan?"

Her voice sounded hollow in the silence. She glanced around. The New York Times was lying open on the table. There was a half drunk mug of coffee next to it, almost like he was going to come walking down the hallway and sit down and start telling her about an interesting article in the arts section like nothing had happened, and Blair thought she would take the paper out of his hands and cover his face in kisses and tell her how sorry she was.

Blair heard the click of a door and her eyes darted to the office. The door swung open and she started to smile, to find the words to tell him that she didn't mean for it to happen, then her face fell when she saw it was Rufus standing in the doorway. He was looking at her with pity and sadness and that was when she felt the tears start to roll down her cheeks again.

"I'm so sorry, Blair." Rufus said softly. "He was gone when I got here."

She thinks she may have finally stopped crying somewhere over Kansas, after making the nice man next to her feel bad enough to hand her his handkerchief and being patted on the shoulder by an elderly woman who told her that it was going to be okay.

She was wrong. Nothing was going to be okay.

It had been raining earlier that day, and Blair had grabbed her raincoat when she got the text but she'd forgotten her umbrella, so by the time she reached the hotel her hair was soaking wet and plastered to her scalp. He was standing next to the bar, a glass of amber liquid gripped in his hand, and when she stepped off the elevator, rain dripping down her coat, he looked at her and smiled.

"Blair," Chuck said, stepping towards her, "you came."

Of course she did.

"Your text," Blair sputtered. "you said it was over, you said..."

She had visions of Chuck, dead, on the pavement, gunshot, and it had taken less than a split second for her to grab her coat and head toward the Empire. She'd been part of chuckandblairblairandchuck for so long that responding to his pain was almost a reflex, because she was the only person who had ever been allowed to see the scared, hurt boy that lurked underneath Chuck's carefully cultivated veneer. She knew how much he could hurt.

"The search for my mother."

Blair stared at him. She felt herself start to shake, partially with relief that Chuck was standing in front of her, walking slowly toward her, partially with rage that the smile across his face said he knew she still cared.

"Fuck you." Blair hissed. She was still shaking. "Go to hell," she said from between clenched teeth. "I hate you."

Blair will never know what happened next. Not with much clarity. She was full of clashing emotions; rage, relief, anger, love, and Chuck was getting closer and closer until she was in his arms and his lips were on hers and he was kissing her. Blair's hands came up to his chest and she pushed at him and twisted, until she broke away and found herself staring at someone she'd never expected to see at that moment.

Serena.

She was standing in the hallway, the elevator doors open behind her, her eyes wide, just staring at the two of them.

"S.," Blair started, then realized that Chuck's arms were wrapped around her. She pushed at him again and struggled to release herself from his embrace. "no, it's not..."

Serena's eyes narrowed and sparked.

"I know what it is, Blair."

"No."

"He loves you."

They both knew she wasn't talking about Chuck.

"I..." Blair sputtered.

"And I gave him up because I thought...I thought... I didn't fight for him, because..."

"Serena."

Serena wasn't listening any longer. She turned and stepped back into elevator and Blair could only stare as the doors slid shut.

"I'm going to fight now."

"Kill shot," Chuck laughed from behind her and Blair felt rage flood through her body.

It was just another game. Another move in the competition Chuck was having with Dan with Blair as the prize. It had been his plan all along, to have her come to the Empire and have Serena find them in an illicit clench. Blair's eyes narrowed and she took one step toward him, then another until she was standing just inches from his smug face.

"We are done." Blair said quietly. He was no longer even her friend.

"We're never done, Blair," Chuck hissed, "Never."

Blair said nothing. She just turned and walked away. There was nothing left to say.

Blair managed to keep it all together until she was outside the Empire standing on the sidewalk and that's when the hyperventilating began, and she leaned against the rough brick wall, not even caring that it might snag her coat, and tried to catch her breath, tried to think, and that's when she realized what had happened.

Dan.

Serena.

Blair shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat and pulled out her phone. With a shaking finger she jabbed the speed dial number for Dan and listened to it ring. Once. Twice, and it went to his voicemail, and Blair left him a message, her voice shaking.

Call me. Please call me. Right now.

That was when she called for the car and she could barely buckle her seatbelt, she was shaking so badly, and her voice sounded choked and strange as she told the driver to go to Brooklyn.

"I don't know where he went. I would tell you if I did." Rufus said, his eyes watching Blair carefully. Blair wanted to go to Rufus, to let him fold her into his arms like she was his child, for him to rock her and tell her it would be okay because at this moment she was pretty sure nothing was going to be okay.

Blair had never had a parent like Rufus. Eleanor was busy with her business or with Cyrus and all she really cared about was that Blair kept her mess-ups private and cleaned up nicely for company. There would be no late-night outpourings of her dreams and fears to her mom and Blair often felt all alone in the world. She knew Dan would probably tell his dad everything, so she begged Rufus with her eyes to please, please be lying, please know where Dan went, please tell her...

"Please."

Blair didn't realize she'd actually uttered the word.

"Oh, Blair," Rufus said, and she she was in his arms and he was rocking her gently back and forth, and somehow this took the edge off the unbearable pain that was lodged somewhere near her heart.

"I need him. I can't...can't..." she murmurs into Rufus' shirt and he tells her that he knows.

"I don't know what's going on, Blair, but he loves you. I know this for sure. Dan loves you."

She pulls back and wipes the tears from her eyes. If he loved her, where was he. Why wasn't he standing in the middle of the loft, waiting for her? She could take his righteous indignation, his judgement, his anger. It was a burden she was willing to carry for him as long as he needed her to. He wouldn't be entirely wrong to hate her. She could tell him she was sorry, that if it mean losing him, she was going to let go of Chuck. Her choice was made. But him leaving. Walking away. That...that was something that twisted deep in her gut, and she knew that walking away was the only way she could possibly lose him.

"You really have no idea?" Blair asked, wanting this to be the moment Rufus reveals that he actually knows where Dan has gone and Blair will go there, find him, knock on the door of his hideout, throw herself at his mercy, tell him that no matter what, she now knows that she will love him the rest of her life, even if he doesn't love her. At least then he'll know.

Rufus kisses her on the forehead, a fatherly and sweet kiss, and suddenly Blair can see him being the father she never had, and she hopes that this is not something permanent but a bump in the road and she'll be experiencing her share of Humphrey brunches in the future, and she knows that if this is it, if this is the end, she's losing more than Dan.

"I'm sorry, Blair."

Blair leaves the loft and finds herself standing outside on the sidewalk. There has to be a way to find him, someone who might know where Dan has gone. Someone...

Then she knows. There is one person. Blair climbs into the back of the town car and tells the driver to head toward the Archibald residence. Now.

Nate has been visiting his mother but he doesn't look entirely surprised when Blair shows up on the doorstep. He doesn't say anything, just opens the door and she walks through, into the foyer.

"I'm sorry." Nate says softly, and his face is filled with so much concern that Blair feels the tears start again.

"Where," Blair starts then her voice cracks and falters. She swallows then starts to speak again, "where did he go?"

Nate swallows.

"Blair."

She wants to scream, to let all the anguish and pain of the last few hours out in a guttural, primal scream. She wants to beat on Nate's chest until her fists hurt and maybe that will make her feel better. But she doesn't. She just looks at him. Pleading.

"I've made a mistake." she says softly, "I need to be able to make it right."

"Blair," Nate says again. "I don't know..."

"I love him."

She's never said these words to Dan but now she says them to Nate as she's standing in the hallway of his mom's brownstone, and the words are out there, drifting between the two friends, and the truth of what she says is like a weight being lifted off her.

She loves him.

"Please," she begs. "Please tell me."

Nate steps back and runs a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, and Blair knows that he's torn between the two of them. Then he sighs and takes her hand in his.

"Okay," Nate says. Blair feels relief wash over her. She holds back the urge to throw her arms around Nate and kiss him, because now she can go find Dan and she can tell him she's sorry and that she's done with Chuck and she's all his, and they'll kiss and fuck and everything will be okay. She closes her eyes and exhales.

"Blair," Nate says, and she opens her eyes to see his looking at her intently, and a little sadly, and she knows there's something he's not telling her. "I'll tell you where he went, but you have to know..."

Blair doesn't like what Nate says next.

"Serena went with him."


	2. Chapter 2

The sun is low and bright in the the sky with some clouds gathering on the horizon by the time Blair is pulling out of the airport and heading toward the freeway. She glances at the GPS and heads toward the freeway that will take her to the coast. She squints in the evening light and then notices that there are rain drops starting to splat on the windshield. Groping around she locates the wipers and flicks them on and thinks how it's funny that it can rain when the sun is shining.

That's how things felt with Dan. Sunny, bright. She would wake up next to him, turn over to watch him sleeping on his stomach, his back rising up and down. They spent most of their time at the loft and she had grown used to waking up in his small, cluttered room lined with books and movies and notebooks full of his scrawling handwriting, notes about characters and plot ideas.

Blair knew that the moment he woke up he would look at her in that way that she sometimes found a little bit sad. He would smile and she would know that there was nothing else he needed in this world except her, this moment. It made Blair feel a little strange, to have someone just love her without tension or games, and she spent all of her time waiting for the cracks to start spreading until they finally started to fall apart. It had always been that way and she didn't know how to think this could be any different.

Sunshine with rain.

Dan had asked her to stop. He had sat across from her on the couch, his hand gripping hers. He had told her it was killing him, that she ran to him whenever he called or texted. Blair had wanted to keep lying to him, to herself, to the entire world. She had wanted to keep telling herself that she could keep this balance, always moving enough to keep everything from toppling over.

She didn't know why she couldn't just let Chuck go.

Blair knew what Chuck would say. He would tell jer that it was because she wasn't over him, that she would never be over him. He would tell her that they were meant to be together and that no matter what she would always belong to him.

How do you turn away from someone who has been part of you for so long. Blair didn't really know, so when Dan asked her to walk away, she told him that she couldn't. Chuck was her friend. He needed her. She had known him for so long and she understood his pain. There was always a reason she could give that she couldn't walk away.

Blair had told him she would try to let Chuck deal with his own problems and Dan looked relieved. Then a text would come in and she would tell Dan that this would be the last time because Chuck needed her.

"He'll never stop needing you." Dan said bitterly.

"Just this one time."

"Blair..."

"I promise."

"I can't keep doing this..."

But somehow he did and they ended up stuck in a loop, Blair begging for understanding, Dan radiating with hurt, and she could always see that behind the hurt was love, but part of Blair was just waiting for the day that there was only pain and the love was gone. She felt like she was always waiting for the breaking point.

That had ended when Chuck had kissed her.

She'd told herself a big lie a long time ago. It was after she'd pressed her lips to the lips of the boy standing in the foyer, the one with his brow furrowed, staring at her mouth, the one she'd known for a long time but she'd never considered in any other way than barely a friend, the one who would turn out to be the love of her life, and she'd told herself that the moment that her lips had met Dan's that some sort of magical clarity had descended on her and she'd realized that she wanted to spend her life with someone else.

When Chuck's lips had crushed hers, Blair knew. There was nothing, just roughness and anger and she remembered there was a time that a kiss from Chuck would have taken her breath away, but instead she thought of Dan. Dan, whose face was so naked and readable that she had always known that he loved her. Even when she was pretending he didn't. Dan who would laugh as she insulted him and tell her that being herself could never really be wrong. Dan who stood by her, and now she saw that it had been at his own expense way too often. Dan, who murmured her name in his sleep. And she knew that she could finally do what he had asked, that she could walk away from her past because it meant she was walking toward her future.

She loved him.

It wasn't a grand moment of realization because Blair had actually loved Dan for a long time, but love for Blair was complicated and she had never fully embraced it because too often love had come with pain and she could never shake the feeling. It was that love all of the sudden seemed incredibly simple. He loved her. She loved him. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Now he had left.

Blair gripped the steering wheel and the wipers went back and forth, wiping away the rain, the headlights cutting through the darkness. She had left the city behind a little while ago.

Serena was with him.

Falling in love every five minutes was almost Serena's signature brand, so her being in love with Dan yet again was a little like the fact that spring would eventually come around again, or the sun rising in the morning. It was cyclic. Falling in love was easy for Serena, who seemed to do it without thinking about it. Falling in love was habit, which was why Blair hadn't been able to take her seriously when Serena had declared Dan the love of her life. Blair had silently added on, 'for now'.

Except for once what Serena had wanted was unobtainable. Blair had seen the pain in her eyes. She would sit at the table during the weekly brunch and stab at the waffle on her plate and not really look at Blair. She didn't call as much. She wasn't around their penthouse.

She should be sad for her friend, care about her heartbreak, but Blair didn't. Serena had spent so much of her life taking without thinking, so much of her life hurting Blair. For once Blair had the prize, and how funny the eighteen year old Blair would have thought that Dan Humphrey would be the prize. This made Blair smile as she drove through the night.

Serena had turned it all around. She made the connection between Blair and Dan about her, telling Blair that dating Dan was just about Blair trying to hurt Serena. Blair had managed not to laugh. Serena was the one who the girls wanted to be like and the boys wanted to be with, the one who got what she wanted with one golden smile. Until now. Blair had been the one who had fought for what she wanted, clawed her way to her goals. She wanted to ask Serena how it felt to not get what she wanted, but Blair managed to bite back that nasty comment. It didn't really matter.

It seemed that Serena was up to the challenge after all. She'd promised not to stand in their way, but here she was jetting across the country with Dan, and Blair thought S had probably gone directly to the loft and told Dan what she saw. The one sided story. From an unreliable narrator.

The GPS directed Blair to take the next exit and she guided the car toward the offramp. The rain had slowed down to a drizzle and the wipers only flicked on now and then. She wasn't far from Cece's beach house now. Nate had told her that was where Dan had gone and Blair had gotten on the next flight to LAX.

She didn't really know what she'd do when she got there. Beg? Blair Waldorf didn't beg, but maybe she would if that would get Dan to listen to her. Maybe she would scream at him because he'd always been there for her and now he was running away and why didn't he trust her enough to say and hear her side of the story and why would he be such a bastard. Maybe she would just wrap her arms around him and press her forehead into his chest, and she knew it would be soft and flannely and so Dan, it would be home, and she would just hope that his arms would wrap around her too, and they could just stand there saying nothing but saying everything at the same time. And then she would finally be able to say those words that had seemed to difficult but now were so simple.

Maybe telling him that she loved him would be enough.

Blair guided the car down a gravel driveway and slowed to a stop. She turned the key and all the lights went black. Everything was quiet and in the distance she could hear the waves of the ocean, a dull roar as the washed onto the sandy beach. She wondered what this place looked like in the daylight. The house was on top of a tall cliff and there were no lights except for the porch light at the front. The sky was deep and velvety back and went forever, the clouds had dissipated, the storm moving inland, coastal weather never wanting to commit to anything for any length of time, and the stars were twinkling bright and beautiful.

Blair wondered if she'd ever want to come back here after tonight. It was beautiful and she imagined that maybe she and Dan could spend some time here, spread out a blanket, lie and stare up at the night sky, her head on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined. Maybe that was in her future. She didn't know.

After what felt like an eternity Blair took a deep breath and pushed the door of the rental car open. Her flats crunched on the gravel as she walked toward the front door of the house, and it felt like the airport all over again. One step after another, moving forward. She walked up the stone steps then stopped and lifted her hand to knock on the door when her hand froze.

The door was big and imposing, and it had glass panels that you could look through and see the entryway. Beyond the entryway was the living room and in the living room sat Dan. Blair's breath hitched as she watched him. He was sitting on a large, overstuffed chair, staring out one of the windows into the nothingness. Then he turned his head like someone was talking to him and she saw Serena walk into the room, her blond hair long and loose and messed in the way only Serana could manage to make look good. She was holding a wine glass in her hand and Blair could see that she was laughing, and she could almost hear it, that sweet, golden sound that charmed everyone. Serena was wearing robe and her legs and feet were bare. She set the wine glass down on a table and walked over to Dan, then Serena was straddling him and the robe was slipping down to expose the golden skin of her shoulder and Serena was leaning down and kissing Dan and his hand was skimming up her back and Blair heard the word, "no" explode into the silence.

She barely recognized her own voice.

Dan looked up at that moment and Blair doubted that he would have actually heard her, but something made him look up, and he saw her face framed in the window of the door, lit by the porch light, and she didn't stay long enough to see anything more. Fumbling for the keys to the rental car, Blair turned and ran back across the driveway, choking back sobs. She somehow managed to get the keys into the ignition and the car turned on and herself strapped in, then she hit the gas pedal hard and squealed off into the darkness.

She had lost him.


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't know where she was going, she was just driving. The headlights lit up the road and on the sides of the road she could see the twisted shapes of trees that fought to survive in the salty ocean air, whipping in the wind as she sped by.

Blair choked back a sob. She glanced at her cellphone that lay on the passenger seat and the screen was lit up with Dan's name across it. She imagined what he might say.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean for it to happen.

I thought you and Chuck...

And Blair thought about what she'd say back.

Fuck you.

Fuck you, Dan Humphrey, for being so damn perfect that I fell in love with you. That I loved you so hard and so much that I left myself open to this, to being hurt. Fuck you for kissing Serena. Fuck you for leaving and not coming to find me, for not thinking the best of me. Fuck you for making me find you.

Fuck you for being like all the others.

Her cheeks were wet with tears and her nose was running and Blair knew that at this moment she looked less than regal. She wanted things to be different, to handle heartbreak with studied indifference, but instead she felt like her entire world was about to collapse.

Maybe she would keep driving, winding up the coast, until the sun would peek over the eastern horizon and then maybe, maybe, she'd be able to pull over and curl up in the back seat of the rental car and managed to let herself sleep, but then again Blair wasn't sure she would ever sleep again because she was sure if she closed her eyes she would see him again, sitting in that chair, her best friend in his lap, her hands cradling his face, that blond hair cascading down her back, his hand...his hand caressing the fabric of her robe like it was the most natural thing in the entire world.

The road curved down and Blair could see the ocean, shades of gray and black and stretching out to eternity. Under different circumstances she might like how never ending the ocean was, that you could look out and see forever, but instead it felt like the same blackness that was inside of her, threatening to swallow her up and Blair was surrounded with nowhere to go.

Suddenly there were headlights in her rear view mirror and just when Blair glanced into it, they flashed.

No.

She hit the gas pedal and the car surged forward and Blair gripped the steering wheel tighter. The phone on the passenger seat lit up again and vibrated. The rental car sped through the night, Blair trying desperately to escape her past, which was now tailing her, flashing headlights again.

The phone lit up again. This time Blair picked it up.

"I'm going to throw this phone out the window."

"Blair, Dan's voice on the other end sounded raw. "You need to get off the phone, it's not safe, you don't drive much, we need to talk, it's not what you think, I can't believe you came here, please pull over."

Dan's words were fast, staccato, like he wanted to get all of that in before she hung up on him. Then he said the words she didn't want to hear.

"I love you."

Blair felt some of her anger start to slip away. She said nothing, just kept her eyes on the road, the phone to her ear. Dan had said those words a million times before in a million ways. Blair had never had a moment of doubt that Dan Humphrey loved her. But this time they were wrenched out of him, guttural, ripped from somewhere deep inside and Blair could hear the pain in his voice.

She wanted to tell him that love wasn't enough. That it meant nothing when you walked away. She wanted to make her hands into fists and beat on his chest and hurt him like he'd hurt her She wanted him to take her into his arms and hold her until she could let everything out, all the betrayal and the pain. She wanted to ask him how he could touch someone else, even Serena who in some ways was as imprinted onto Dan's memory as Chuck was onto hers. She wanted to scream at him that he'd asked her to walk away from the man she'd spent years loving but the moment something went wrong he ran back to someone who had never loved him enough in the first place.

"Blair." Dan's voice was soft now, like he knew he'd somehow broken through her defenses, and she felt herself start to shake. "Pull over."

"No." she whispered and hung up the phone.

Blair wanted this to be over, to finally make a clean break, to find a way to live in this world where no one would be able to hurt her ever again. This meant walking away from everyone. She'd finally decided to walk away from Chuck and now she wanted to walk away from Dan. She wanted to be strong enough to live without him, but even the thought sent a wave of pain through her heart that made it feel impossible to even take a breath.

At the same time she didn't know if living without Dan would be living at all. It seemed like it would just be some sort of hollow, meaningless existence.

The headlights of the car lit up a sign that said a scenic viewpoint would be coming up in two miles and Blair made a decision. She hit the turn signal and pulled over into the deserted parking lot, the car rolling to a stop. If she was there during the day she would find the view breathtaking, miles of blue ocean stretching as far the eye could see, cliffs rising on either side, white fluffy clouds dotting the blue sky, sandy, perfect beach. Instead there was the same blackness, the lights of the car showing a slice of beach, a few rocks dotting it, and then more blackness.

Blair leaned forward and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, feeling the vibration of the engine against her skin. She closed her eyes and the tears that had stopped momentarily started to slide down her cheeks again.

There was a tap on the window. She turned her head and he was standing there, staring at her, his curly hair tangled and sticking up everywhere from the dampness and the wind, his eyes red rimmed. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the same wool coat he always wore, and Blair thought she could smell his unique Dan scent, and she ached. He just stood there, watching her. After what felt like an eternity Blair turned off the ignition and her shaking hand pushed the door open. She swung her legs out of the car and stood up, shutting the car door with a click, her hands smoothing the fabric of her skirt, and she thought it was a strange gesture, to be worried about her appearance as she and Dan stood in the darkness on the California coast. The air was damp and the ocean roared in the background, and Blair's hair was blowing in her face, so she pushed it back with her still-shaking hand and wondered if he noticed how she was trembling.

They stood there, not moving.

"Did you kiss him?" Dan said after a long silence. His words were sincere and full of pain. Blair's words caught in her throat and when she finally managed to answer, they sounded strange and hoarse.

"He kissed me."

Blair didn't explain more. She didn't want to. It was too painful, too fresh of a memory. She didn't scramble to tell him that Chuck had kissed her and she'd pushed him away, didn't over explain that it meant nothing. She just answered his question.

Dan's eyes narrowed a little and he watched her face.

"Do you love him?"

Blair laughed a little and it was a funny sound at such a serious moment. She'd once thought she'd loved Chuck, and there was a time when the answer would have been a resounding 'yes', but the boy who stood in front of her with all his emotions on his face had shown her what it meant to really love someone,and the idea of loving Chuck now seemed laughable, like a silly schoolgirl crush from long ago.

"No," she answered. Blair did not love Chuck.

Dan swallowed and his eyes remained on her face, locked with hers.

"Do you love me?"

His voice quavered. Blair looked at him and the last forty eight hours slipped away, along with all the hurt and betrayal, all of sudden they were Dan and Blair again, and she fought back the urge to reach out and touch his face, to feel his skin under her fingertips, and she saw him with clarity that she'd never known before Chuck had kissed her and she'd realized what she'd known all along, and maybe someday she'd be able to thank Chuck for helping her realize who she really wanted. Why had she never been able to do this, to say the words? It all seemed both ridiculous and obvious and she finally told him what she'd been wanting to since she left New York.

"Yes," Blair whispered. "I love you."

"Blair," he said her name roughly, and Dan was stepping toward her, shrinking the distance between them, and then his hands were on her arms and his mouth was on hers with crushing force and all their sadness was contained in a kiss that was both sweet and rough. Blair's hands went the skin at the base of his throat, her fingers fanning over it, then they were sliding around his neck and tangling in his hair, and she felt herself relax into him.

Blair Blair Blair Blair

He was whispering her name and kissing her again and again, and Blair was kissing him back, and it reminded her of that kiss in the loft so long ago where he'd barely been able to contain the joy he felt as she whispered his name. Blair's head was all hazy with what it was like to kiss Dan, but there was something that pushed through the feeling, Dan in that chair, Serena walking into the room in that robe, putting the wine glass down and... Blair brought her hands to Dan's chest and started to push him away from her, his lips breaking away from hers.

"Stop."

"I can't," Dan moaned. "I need you so much, I..."

"No."

Blair's voice was sharp and Dan pulled back and looked at her, then she saw his eyes widen and she knew he understood why she had stopped him. Dan's arms dropped to his side and he looked away and scuffed at the asphalt with his shoe.

Blair closed her eyes, not wanting to think about what him looking away from her meant.

She could handle a kiss. It had been such a fucked up two days, and if they could call it even, Chuck for Serena, maybe this could become a story they laughed about someday. Dan would tell their kids how their crazy mom had made a cross-country trip and how they'd said 'I love you' in the darkness with the ocean roaring in their ears, and all would be okay. She could handle this becoming just an anecdote, a story about how far people will go for love, something they could laugh about. She couldn't handle anything else.

"I just need to know."

Dan didn't say anything, but she knew he understood what she was asking. Was it more than a kiss. He looked at her, opened his mouth then closed it, then looked away and Blair knew. She felt a sharp pain in her hands and realized that she'd been digging her fingernails into her palms.

No.

"I'm sorry, Blair." Dan said softly. "I'm so sorry. I thought...Serena told me...I never would have, if I had any idea..."

Blair felt her bottom lip start to tremble and she bit it, fighting back tears. They stood there, staring at each other, neither able to move, until Blair finally found her voice and said the only thing she could think of.

"Fuck you."


	4. Chapter 4

"Mr. Lonely Boy is here."

Blair glanced up from the table to find Dorota standing in the doorway of the dining room. It had been two weeks since she stepped off the plane, back in New York, California behind her like some sort of bad dream. She blinked at Dorota who was fussing a little with her white apron, waiting for the reply that had been the same every day. Blair wished Dorota would just figure it out herself and stop walking into the dining room every morning to ask her the same question over and over..

"What do you want me to do?"

Her face always held this little bit of hope and Blair knew that Dorota liked Dan, wanted things to be different. They'd hadn't talked about it since Blair's return, even when Blair woke up sobbing and Dorota sat on the edge of her bed and smoothed her hair, rubbed her back, until Blair felt like she could breathe again. Still, every day Dorota asked the same question, and every day the pain felt exactly the same, and every day the answer was the same answer.

"Send him away."

Blair bit into a piece of bacon, extra crispy. Since her return Dorota had been plying her with her favorite foods, leaving snacks at her bedside for the middle of the night, 'just in case', Dorota said, doing everything exactly the way Blair liked, as if that could somehow make a broken heart even a little bit better.

The penthouse felt big and empty, and Blair bumped around in it feeling small and out of sorts. She had spent her days trying to read or maybe watch a movie, not wanting to go out. Without Serena there it was quiet, no one to jump onto Blair's bed in the morning, full of sunshine and energy, recounting her exploits from the night before, not noticing Blair's grumbling, or maybe just ignoring it. Sometimes Blair missed the chaos that always seemed to come with S.

Serena hadn't dared show her head since California. She'd been strangely absent from the party circuit. Blair didn't even know if she'd returned from California. For all she knew Serena was in Hollywood, charming movie director and accidentally falling into her next unchosen career of starlet.

Dan was back. It was hard to miss since the day after she returned he'd shown up at the penthouse, asking to see her, and Blair had resisted the urge to run downstairs, confront him, rail at him, shrink him down to nothingness with her words in the way that only Blair excelled at. Not that he didn't deserve it, but she didn't want Dan to have any chance to hurt her again, and just seeing him would make her vulnerable.

Of all the people in the world, why Serena? As hard as she tried, Blair couldn't get the image of Serena and Dan, kissing, fucking. Did he enjoy it? Did he even think of Blair, care how this would affect her? What Serena wanted, Serena got, and once again Blair had ended up on the losing side of the equation. Serena had gotten Dan, the 'love of her life', not caring that her actions would cost her best friend. Blair's heart being broken was just a bonus, another wound in the long list that Serena had made when it came to hurting Blair, and this one was going to scar.

He'd come every day since then. She'd just calmly told Dorota to ask him to leave and gone back to reading the New York Times, or eating her breakfast, or just staring out the window pretending she wasn't being slowly eaten away by melancholy and sadness. In the least Blair wanted to mourn in some beautiful way, if she indeed had to mourn Dan Humphrey, maybe a single tragic tear down her flawless skin, but even the tears didn't want to come. They would only come when she least expected them. Mourning had a way of sneaking up on you.

Any other boy would have at least sent her flowers, and candy, and cards begging forgiveness. Another boy would have filled the foyer with her favorite blooms, hired quartets to play her favorite tune, write her ridiculous love letters about his broken heart. Dan did none of this. He didn't even call and Blair was glad because there was nothing left to say. He just showed up, as if to tell her that this is what he had to give. Himself. Every day. The same time. As if to show her what she wouldn't let him say, that he would never walk away again. Blair didn't want anything to do with Dan and she wondered when he would finally give up.

Fuck you, Dan Humphrey.

That was what Blair would scream in the middle of the night when she jerked away from one nightmare of another, her hair matted, her face wet with tears, and she would let all that anger and betrayal go, yelling as loud as she could, her voice echoing in her empty bedroom. She would turn over and bury her face into the expensive down pillows and sob, wrenching, guttural sobs that shook her entire body. Sometimes Dorota would have spent the night and she would come flying into the room and Blair would feel her hands stroking her back, hear her saying something in Polish over and over, and Blair's breathing would slow and her eyes would start to flutter shut, and she would drift off to sleep. Other times she would be alone and the pain felt like it would never end.

In the morning she would wake up and gather herself, wash her face, comb out her hair, moisturize her skin, put on her makeup and smile at herself in the mirror, as if whatever happened in the darkness of her room, whatever sadness that overwhelmed her, was part of some other reality.

Sometimes Blair didn't want to go to sleep.

Blair took another drink of the coffee that was cooling on the table and was about to read the arts section of the New York Times when Dorota returned to the dining room. Blair glanced up and again Dorota picked at her apron and looked around nervously. Not a good sign.

"What?" Blair snapped.

It couldn't be Dan. He'd made his daily visit, at 9:15 sharp, and part of Blair liked that Dan's day now appeared to be centered around his daily dose of Blair Waldorf rejection. But maybe it was, and Blair felt irritation well up. Wasn't it bad enough she had to deal with Brooklyn's Benedict Arnold on a daily basis, couldn't he just leave her alone? She was about to tell Dorota to send yet another message, this time involving telling him to go to hell, when Dorota cleared her throat.

"Um...Miss Blair, it's...it's..."

"Spit it out, Dorota. I don't have all day."

That wasn't entirely the truth. Blair really had nothing to do but try to pass the time, but she also didn't want to spend a lot of time waiting for Dorota to spit out whatever it was that she knew Blair wasn't going to like.

"It's Miss Serena."

Blair felt like she wanted to vomit and it reminded her of being a teenager and her mom giving her bad news, like she was going to marry that short, sweaty man, Cyrus Rose, and how she used to need to find a bathroom so she could empty the contents of her stomach, and it was the only thing that would make her feel better. Old habits have a way of rearing their ugly head.

Serena. How dare she show up here like this, asking to see Blair, like she had any right, like she hadn't fucked Blair's boyfriend in a beach house high on a cliff on a windy spring night.. Blair didn't say anything, just shoved her half-eaten plate of breakfast away from her so she didn't start wolfing her food down. She didn't want anything to drag her back to being the old, insecure Blair. She wanted to be strong and face her life, but this felt like almost too much.

"Tell her to get the hell away from me. Serena Van der Woodsen isn't welcome here anymore." Blair said to Dorota, picking up the newspaper with studied indifference.

Dorota hesitated and Blair narrowed her eyes. There was something she wasn't telling her. Dorota stepped to the side and Serena walked into the room.

"Blair."

Blair closed her eyes and maybe when she opened them this would all be a dream. She would be sitting eating breakfast and Dan would be next to her, drinking his coffee and there never would have been Chuck kissing her or a trip to California and Dan fucking Serena, and she would tell him what an awful dream she'd had and threaten him bodily harm if he ever left her, and Dan would smile as she dressed him down for transgressions that he'd never done and then he'd laugh and they'd figure out what their plans for the day were, and it would be simple and wonderful.

She just had to open her eyes and it would all be a distant memory.

Blair took a deep breath and she lifted her eyelids, and Serena was still there and nothing was different.

"B, please..."

She wasn't as sparkly and golden as usual. Serena actually looked disheveled, and not beautifully disheveled, but disheveled in a rumpled, I-haven't-been-sleeping kind of way. Her hair was messy, as usual, but her eyes had circles under them and her skin was pale. Still, Blair knew that even in this state Serena would always command attention from everyone around her, would always outshine Blair who would stand by her side as the nice looking mousey one who had to work hard for everything she got in life.

"Get out." Blair hissed.

Serena stood frozen in place, not moving as Blair had commanded her, and Blair felt a flush of fury climb her cheeks.

"Get out." Blair repeated.

She could have picked up her plate and thrown it for emphasis. That would make Serena turn and run away. She imagined those green eyes going wide, the shock across her perfect, chiseled face as Queen B. hurled fine bone china in her direction. It made Blair feel kind of happy.

Serena ignored Blair's command, her stance wide, like a gunslinger in an old western with his hand on his gun, waiting to fire the first shot. Serena had come here for something and she wasn't going to leave until she was done.

"He loves you, B."

People who love you don't cheat. They don't fuck your best friend. They certainly don't fuck Serena fucking Van der Woodsen. Blair said none of this. She just stared at Serena.

"Blame me." Serena continued hesitantly, taking Blair's silence as tacit approval to continue. "I didn't tell him the whole truth about what I saw, I let him think you were back with Chuck..."

Serena stuttered and even on her it was unflattering. Blair still said nothing.

"I love him, Blair. You know that, right?" Serena said hoarsely.

Blair knew that Serena thought she loved Dan, that she might not love him anymore if he were available. She knew that Serena wasn't used to not getting what she wanted. She knew that she didn't love Blair enough to leave Dan alone.

"...and he's not the only one to blame."

Blair laughed out loud and her lips curled into a sneer. Ultimately it was Dan Humphrey's penis inside Serena, his decision to fuck her. No one made him do it.

"You told me once that he's one of the good ones," Serena continued. "and you were right, he really is. It's just that he's yours and if I had never gone to him, never told him what I saw, neither of you would be here now."

Blair felt some of her anger melt with Serena's words, and behind the anger was what she'd been avoiding for the last couple weeks. Sadness. Loss. Grief.

No. She would not let this happen. She would not let those feelings through. Not right now.

"I've never seen him so miserable," now Serena laughed, a wry laugh full of irony, "god, I wish it were different, but it's not. I had to come today, to see if I can fix what I broke."

More anger melted away. Blair felt the trembling start and she leaned forward and gripped the table with both her hands. She would not do this. Not here. Not now. Breaking down was reserved for the darkness, when she was alone with her thoughts and all she could do was miss the way he had touched her. It was only for the midnight hour when no one could witness that Blair Waldorf was entirely undone. In the daylight she kept it together, feeling barely held in place by what little pride she had left. And now even that was starting to fall away and what was left was raw and exposed and something she didn't want Serena to see.

"Get out." Blair managed to hiss again from between clenched teeth. She could feel the tears starting to pool in her eyes, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they spilled over. She could start to feel her breathing starting to hitch, the slight heave of her chest as she choked back a sob. She would not do this.

"He loves you, B." Serena repeated. "That has to mean something."

It meant nothing except that Blair's heart was broken and at the moment it was threatening to engulf her, and she stood up slowly and finally did pick up the fine bone china plate then she threw it in Serena's direction with all her might. It shattered on the wall next to Serena's head.

"GET. OUT."

Serena jumped back and then turned and ran from the room, and she didn't see Blair standing there frozen, then, as if in slow motion, she slowly sank down to the ground and let out a sound that was almost inhuman as the tears started to flow in earnest, and Dorota raced into the room and put her arms around Blair and held her as she cried.


	5. Chapter 5

It started with a smile.

Things had gotten better. After Serena left, Blair had ended up curled up in fetal position on the floor of the dining room, Dorota's arms around her, rocking her back and forth like she was one of her own children. Blair let everything go; all the pain, the heartache, the love, the betrayal. It flowed from her in the form of tears and sobs, and she wanted to ask why this had happened, and at some point Dorota managed to pull Blair to a stand and help her back to her room. She undressed her like she had done when Blair was five and pulled a soft, cotton nightgown over her head then tucked Blair's exhausted body under the covers.

"I miss him," Blair murmured as she felt herself start to relax, Dorota stroking her forehead.

"I know, Miss Blair."

"I love him," she whispered, her voice drowsy and heavy.

Blair didn't hear Dorota's reply because her eyelids drifted shut and she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, the kind of sleep she hadn't had since returning to the city. When she woke in the morning Dorota was sleeping on the couch across the room, snoring softly, and there was a shaft of sunlight coming through the bedroom window. Blair stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes a little and realized that something was different. Something was missing.

Every morning she'd woken to feel sadness weighing her down but on that day she didn't feel quite as heavy.

Dan still came by that morning, 9:15 sharp, and every morning after that, but something inside Blair had softened and when she told Dorota to send him away, she wasn't as filled with anger as she had been. It's not like she wanted to see him. He was the last person she wanted to see, but the idea of Dan Humphrey in her foyer, bantering with Dorota, asking if maybe Blair might see him today, didn't make Blair feel like she was teetering at the edge of an abyss about to fall in.

It really was the smallest of smiles, almost insignificant. It was pretty much nothing.

One morning Blair got up and decided that she would do something different that day. She'd already watched her entire movie library. She'd finished several books. The sun was shining and there were buds starting to appear on the trees and she smiled and thought maybe it was time for her to get out, so that morning she told Dorota to find out if there was some sort of event happening and she pulled open the doors of the closet and started to search for something to wear. She ended up wearing black and heading to some benefit for the cause celeb of the Upper East Side that evening that everyone was attending, and Blair thought that it was turning out to be the first good day she'd had in a long, long time.

Nate was the first person she saw. He came bounding up to her, engulfing her in a big, huge hug and Blair hugged him back just as tightly because Nate had always taken care of her and she'd missed seeing him since she'd returned from California. He pulled back and told her that Serena was there and Blair tried to ignore how her stomach clenched when she heard her former friend's name.

Forgiving Serena would take a very long time.

Blair forced a smile and told Nate she could handle it, and hoped she wasn't lying, then noticed that the plates were plastic and figured at least Serena would be safe from any flying dinnerware. Then she'd caught a glimpse of the blond across the room, laughing in spite of the sadness in her eyes, looking beautiful and carefree. and there were three or four men surrounding her and it was just like old times.

Serena would spend the night avoiding Blair, always on the opposite side of the room, never looking her way, and Blair was happy about that.

Blair glanced around. She was surrounded by familiar faces, laughing and flirting with each other, tipping back strong drinks, and Blair felt at home but strangely like an outsider at the same time. She hadn't been to one of these events for so long, and in so many ways it felt like her old life and she wasn't really part of it anymore. Blair scurried over to the bar and ordered a drink, just a club soda with lime, then turned and gazed out into the room that was rapidly filling up with the beautiful people women in designer gowns and handsome men. She breathed a sigh of relief, that she'd made it out of the penthouse without being seized by so much sadness and regret that it paralyzed her, relief that this place didn't remind her too much of him. She was doing okay.

That's when she saw him.

Blair gripped the glass in her hand and the world started to swim a little. He was walking into the room, slouching a little, hands shoved in his pockets, Rufus by his side, Lily's hand on his arm. Blair felt the grip of panic in her chest. There she was, vulnerable, exposed, still feeling raw, leaning against the bar, and if he was to turn and look at her, she didn't know what she would do.

Dan's head was bent toward Rufus' and they were deep in conversation, Rufus's hand on Dan's shoulder, and neither had looked up to see Blair standing across the room. This gave her a moment to study him, take in all the details she had wanted to forget. The angles of his face. The way his eyes crinkled as he smiled at something Rufus said. His hair, unruly and refusing to behave, thick and even longer than it had been before, and she could remember how it felt to grip it while he kissed her. He looked thinner and a little wan, like he hadn't seen daylight in a while or like his heart had been broken, and Blair felt sad. Clearly what had happened between them had taken its toll. She glanced at the base of his throat and his shirt was a little open and she could see a glimpse of his chest and she was suddenly remembering how it had felt to kiss his warm skin as she unbuttoned his shirt and he was laughing at her and and she could feel the vibration of his laugh on her lips and it was some random sunny afternoon that felt like a lifetime ago when they were two different people.

Fuck. She missed him. After everything, she still missed him. Blair was in so much trouble.

Blair thought she was feeling better, that she could handle going out and being around other people, but she had never expected to see Dan. It hurt so much. She felt herself start to tremble and she knew she needed to figure out her exit strategy, so she started looking around, trying to figure out how to slip out unseen so she could call the town car and return to the confines of her apartment, then she glanced back toward him and this time he was looking directly at her.

Blair couldn't move.

They just stared at each other and Blair realized in that moment that no matter what had happened, no matter the hurt and betrayal, it was actually good to see him, and she wished things were different and not so complicated, and that was when she did it, let herself stop hating him for a moment, and she remembered how he had made her happy, and she didn't really mean to, but there she was, standing in the same room with him, and she did something that would change everything in less than one second.

She smiled.

It was a trace of a smile but he saw it, and he smiled back, looking tired and sad. Then the crowd shifted and she lost sight of him, and she exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and she needed to get out of there, so Blair headed for one of the doors and called the car and went home.

The book arrived the next day by courier and Blair recognized Dan's handwriting on the plain brown paper wrapping.

If it had been Chuck it would have been some elaborate gift, something that shined and sparkled, something expensive. Big transgressions always resulted in big gestures from him. But it actually was something small, a worn paperback of poetry that Blair thought she recognized from the bookshelf in Dan's bedroom at the loft, a little dusty with that old book smell. She flipped it open and found that the margins were covered in notes, Dan's scrawling handwriting, in blue and black ink, a relic from his high school days, and stuck inside the cover was a post-it note that read,

...this has always been one of my favorites...

He had scrawled his initial at the bottom of the note, a loopy letter D. Blair briefly considered throwing the book out the window, if she could actually get any of the windows to open, but then changed her mind and she decided to sit down and read it.

The next day, at 9:15 as she was finishing her croissant and jam, Dorota appeared like clockwork in the doorway and asked her what she wanted to do about Dan Humphrey standing in the foyer. Blair started to reflexively tell her to send him away but then stopped and asked Dorota to wait. She ran upstairs to her bedroom, and grabbed the book that she'd stayed up reading until early morning, then grabbed one of her monogrammed note cards that smelled like perfume, and quickly scrawled on it, two words, not the paragraphs she wanted to write about how beautiful the poetry had been and how she'd cried as she read it in the pool of yellow light from the bedside lamp on her nightstand.

...thank you...

The next day another book arrived, another selection from the Dan Humphrey library, this time a book of photographs of the New York music scene in the early seventies, punked out girls and boys in skinny jeans with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, and black and white photos of famous bands at CBGBs, and Dan's notes scrawled in the margins. The card she'd sent with the other book was tucked inside the cover, and on the back was his loopy, slanted handwriting.

...I'm sorry...

She sent the book back the next morning with another card tucked into the cover.

...I know...

If there was one thing Blair could be sure of, Dan regretted what had happened. She knew this beyond a doubt.

It continued like that. Every morning Dan would arrive at the penthouse and ask for her, and every morning Blair would send him away, but she made sure that Dorota handed him whatever book he had sent the afternoon before, and there was always a card tucked inside. She saved the cards, dropping each one into her jewelry box, single sentences scrawled across them, and she didn't realize that the cards were a sort of a map of their journey toward forgiveness they were writing to each other, maybe even a kind of love letter, but not the kind of love letter they might have written before California and Serena and all the heartbreak. That kind could never be written again.

Then one day the card said something that made Blair catch her breath.

...have dinner with me...

She could imagine how hard it would have been for Dan to write those words, to ask her for more than she was willing to give, to risk losing everything again. She couldn't imagine seeing him again, being close to him, hearing his voice and being able to smile around him without seeing Serena and how totally fucked up everything had become. In so many ways Dan Humphrey had ceased to be real and only existed as a character in a novel for Blair, and as long as she kept him at arms distance, he could remain unreal.

She didn't return his book the next day. Or the day after. Blair stayed in her room and the card sat on her nightstand and Blair would just sit and stare and wonder if she really could do this again.

"Lonely boy look worried," Dorota said as she set a tray with breakfast down on the table. Blair pushed up her eye mask and looked at Dorota who was standing next to her bed, staring down at her, Dan's latest book tucked under her arm. Blair noticed that the clock said 9:30.

"He's pacing a lot."

Blair could imagine Dan pacing across the foyer, no more friendly banter, wondering why she hadn't returned his book and the card, wondering why he was still coming there every day, wondering if he should stop, or if she wants him to stop. She could see him with his hands thrust into the pockets of his coat, his shoulders hunched, his brow furrowed with worry. She realized that he must still be down there, waiting for Dorota to return since Dorota still had the book.

"I don't know what to do, Dorota." Blair sighed. She was stuck between her past and her future and nothing made sense in either of them, and she felt paralyzed.

"You love him." Dorota said.

"I do." She did. That had never changed. Even though she wanted it to be different, it had not changed. Even though Dan had fucked Serena, it had not changed. Dan had broken her heart and Blair still loved him. Sometimes Blair hated that she couldn't just turn off how much she loved him.

"But love isn't enough. Not anymore," Blair whispered. Not after Serena and California.

"You miss Lonely Boy?"

Blair nodded. She missed him more than she had ever imagined, and it went way beyond sex, although sex with Dan was something she missed a lot too. She missed their talks, the way he looked at her like she was the only girl on the planet. She missed him holding her hand. She missed walking down the street with him. She missed seeing movies and debating them over coffee afterwards. She missed his laugh and his smell and his crazy hair and his breathing in the darkness as she lay next to him.

"What happens if you give him another chance?"

"He hurts me again. He fucks Serena again. It's like Chuck all over again where I just accept being hurt. I end up in the looney bin," Blair sighed, "Oh, I just don't know."

"What does your heart tell you?"

Blair didn't answer. Her heart told her that she would never survive another betrayal by Dan, that he had lodged himself so deeply inside her that another hit would be fatal. It also told her that she would never love anyone like she loved him, that even if she found someone else she would always ache for him and what they might have had. She gave Dorota a plaintive look.

"Is Lonely Boy sorry?"

It had been months since she'd returned from California and Dan had been at her door every single morning. Blair refused to acknowledge him, to talk to him, yet he returned every single day. He had told her with his actions what she wouldn't allow him to tell her with words, that there was nothing that would ever again tear him away from her. Blair's hand shook and she reached for the card on her nightstand.

"Give me a pen!" she snapped, feeling suddenly peakish and irritable and very afraid, and Dorota pulled a pen from her uniform pocket, and this made Blair smile. Dorota was always prepared. Blair turned the card over to the blank side and wrote on it, then handed it back to Dorota. Dorota smiled and tucked it into the book, then turned and left the room. Blair pulled the mask back over her eyes and tried not to think about the answer she'd given Dan, scrawled on the back of the card, signed with a loopy, big "B".

...yes...


	6. Chapter 6

They never made it to dinner.

Blair felt ill. She was sitting at her vanity table, brushing her hair until it was shiny and soft and smooth. Blair had ignored the brightly colored clothing in her wardrobe and chosen black again, the color people wore on rainy days and to funerals. It was a simple shirt waisted dress with buttons up the front, a very demure neckline, something that one might wear to a business lunch. She fastened a simple gold chair around her neck and put on plain gold studs.

Why did she agree to this?

She pulled out her favorite lip gloss and smeared it across her lips, then looked into the mirror. Her skin looked pale, but flawless. Her eyes were big, shining with tears and sadness that seemed to always be there, and Blair hated that her face was so readable at times. She wanted to get through this with grace, the always tragic heroine who is facing her scorned lover, who is always beautiful and dignified. She did not want to cry or scream, because that would let Dan see just how much he had hurt her. She just wanted to stay calm and untouchable and make it through the night.

The town car would take her to Brooklyn. The idea of Dan picking her up at her penthouse made Blair queasy. It was too much like a regular date, boy standing in the entryway, a bunch of half-wilted flowers gripped in his sweaty hand, girl, sweeping down the staircase, everything about her just right, from her hair to her outfit, face aglow with anticipation. That might have been them at one time, but it wasn't them anymore. Blair felt more like she was going into battle, not knowing what to expect, feeling like there were enemies on every side. So she'd told him she would meet him, well, she'd told Dorota to tell him she would meet him.

Blair still couldn't find a way to talk to Dan that didn't hurt too much.

Time to go. Blair stood up and grabbed her coat and clutch from the bed where Dorota had laid them out for her, then she headed downstairs.

Dorota was standing at the bottom of the stairs, her face serious.

"Miss Blair, you look..."

Heartbroken. Melancholy. Terrified.

"...beautiful."

Blair smiled. She kissed Dorota on the cheek and thanked her for always knowing what to say. It seemed being heart sick suited her. Maybe she was coming closer to achieving the status of tragic heroine than she realized.

She played with her ruby ring the entire way to Brooklyn, spinning it around her finger, back and forth, wanting to tell the driver to stop the car and turn around at least a hundred times. She liked it when Dan was just a few words scrawled on a note card, or lonely boy pacing in the foyer. She liked the distance because it kept her safe, and now that distance would be gone.

He was standing on the sidewalk when the car pulled up, looking up and down the street, walking a few steps back and forth, scuffing his shoe on the pavement like he did when he was nervous, and the way he was holding his body reminded her of being in the darkness and the wind on the California Coast and Dan not being able to look at her.

Fuck.

The car pulled up beside him and Blair heard the click of the door and then his head was inside, and he was folding himself onto the seat next to her, and Blair wondered why she hadn't just asked him to meet her, because this was way to close.

Stupid.

He didn't say anything and Blair felt herself physically move away from him, shifting her weight toward the opposite door, trying to escape, panic lumping in her throat and then everything suddenly shifted into something Blair had never expected.

Dan smelled good. His scent hit her and she felt kind of dizzy and then the strange feeling of desire started to spread through her with its slow and familiar heat.

What the hell?

"Hi." he said, his voice cracking, nervous. His hands were folded in his lap and she could see that they were shaking. He wouldn't look at her, but when he did she could see that his eyes were dark with the same desire she was struggling with her. It made her breath catch a little.

She said nothing, just pressed herself into the corner and looked at him, feeling like she was smoldering, every part of her starting to slowly burn.

Blair had expected anger. She'd expected it would be impossible for her to find a way to talk to him, that all of their banter would be lost somewhere. She thought it would be awkward, a dinner full of jilted conversation with Blair stabbing at her salad with her fork and food never making its way to her mouth. She'd gone through all the scenarios in her head, but she'd missed this one. The one where having him so close, the way he smelled, his hands with their long fingers, seeing his lips and his eyes, would leave her actually wanting him. Dinner seemed very far way now. It wasn't like Blair was hungry, she'd barely been able to eat since she agreed to go out with Dan, but now food was the furthest thing from her mind.

She should kick him out of the car right now, turn around and return to Manhattan. Because if Blair stayed like this any longer, staring at him with her lips slightly parted, noticing the way that he was watching her mouth, she didn't know what would happen. She should do the right thing and leave. Leave Dan Humphrey behind and be done with this part of her life. But she didn't. Instead she moved toward him, sliding across the seat with cat-like ease, a feline on the prowl.

This was a huge mistake.

She was going to make it anyway.

Blair crushed her mouth to his, kissing him roughly, her tongue invading his mouth with force. There was nothing sweet about that moment, just her wanting him in a way she'd never felt before, in a way that wouldn't be possible without betrayal and anger.

They never made it to dinner. Instead they tumbled out of the town car, a mass of arms and legs, lips locked, Dan moaning, his hands pushing her dress up and Blair didn't even care that they were still on the sidewalk, and she hoped they could make it all the way up to the loft, but she was fine with fucking in the stairwell too if it would ease this burn. They managed to get up the stairs and Dan pushed open the door, not caring that it hit the wall and might have left a dent, as Blair was tearing at the buttons of his shirt and she slammed him against the wall next to the door, and her lips were at the base of his throat, tracing their way up his neck until they reached his ear.

"Fuck me." she growled and her hands went down to the waistband of his pants and she flicked the button open and pulled the zipper down.

Dan kicked his pants off, not caring where they landed, and he pulled Blair into his arms and somehow they managed to stumble through the loft toward the bedroom while kissing and undressing all at the same time, and she wanted him like she'd never wanted anyone before. Blair pushed Dan back onto the bed and she climbed over him, straddling him, now they were both naked and she lowered herself down and he was inside her.

Dan's head went back and he gasped and she could tell that her name was on his lips, so Blair growled at him again,

"Don't talk."

This was not about words. It was about a heat inside her that would not stop, a combination of wanting him and hating him, and she had been hurting too much for too long, and maybe sex would at least take the edge off, like a heroin addict trying to take the edge off dope sickness by taking another hit.

Dan's hips bucked and Blair moved with him, fast, furious, bodies sweaty and slapping together, mouths groping for each other, hands gripping hard, almost hurting, and Blair was sure she'd find a few bruises the next day.

This was not about love and romance, it was not sweet. There would be no afterglow or pillow talk or cuddling. This was all about need and hurt.

Blair felt everything start to grow melty and spread out and her eyes lost focus and then she was coming, an orgasm tightening up the muscles in her body, her toes curling, and it was by far the best orgasm she'd ever had, especially because as she came she looked at Dan and no longer shielded all of the anger, the hurt, the pain, the betrayal, and she locked eyes with him, refusing to look away, refusing to disguise what he'd done to her.

"Fuck you." Blair panted over and over.

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you

She collapsed on top of him, then rolled over, turned her back toward him, hugging her knees to her chest. Blair felt Dan's hand start to stroke her hair and she shrugged him away, and then she was alone, the cool night air on her damp skin making her shiver a little. They lay there in silence, not touching, not looking at each other, Blair feeling like she was going to sink into the mattress, that her entire body had gone liquid. If she could have, she would have gotten up and walked away, but instead she let her eyes flutter shut and she slept.

It was another deep and dreamless sleep, as if just being back next to him brought her some sort of peace that she would not acknowledge when she was awake, and Blair would hate herself for that in the morning.

She woke up at some point in the night, the room was pitch black and Dan was breathing softly next to her. She felt him stir and he said her name and his hand was on her thigh and she didn't move but didn't push him away. Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her sleepily, slowly, tongues tangling and he was rolling on top of her, her breasts smashed against his chest and his hands were tangling in her hair and she was gripping his back, and she spread her legs and they fucked again. This time it was slow and sad, and Blair cried for everything they had been before, and no matter what had happened, she missed him. She doubted she would ever stop missing him

They fell asleep again, this time tangled up in each other.

Blair woke up with her hair tangled and plastered to her face and Dan's arm across her hip and a crusted line of drool down her cheek. Not her most beautiful moment. Morning light was just starting to filter through the edges of the blind on the bedroom window. Dan was breathing heavily next to her, sleeping deeply. Blair slowly moved his limp arm off her hip then slipped out of the bed. She found her clothes scattered around the loft in a trail leading to the bedroom and pulled them on, picked up the clutch that was lying by the front door, then padded down the hallway to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror she saw that her hair was sticking up in different directions, here eyes were smeared with the mascara that she'd applied so carefully the night before, her lips were dry. She ran the water in the sink and splashed it on her face, put on some lip gloss, then she opened her clutch and found her cell phone and dialed for the the town car.

Blair pushed the door of Dan's study open and looked around his desk until she found a post-it note. She grabbed a pen and quickly scrawled something, then stuck on the screen. Then she quietly slipped out of the loft and went downstairs to wait on the sidewalk, just as Dan had been waiting the night before, shivering a little in the cold morning air, watching the sun start to peek over the buildings.

She showered when she got home, washing off all of his spit and sweat, the l'occitane body gel washing away his smell. Blair let the water run down her face and body, and she wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come. She pulled on some clothes, a soft tee shirt and some yoga pants, then wrapped her hair up in a towel and headed downstairs.

Breakfast was on the table and Blair smiled. Dorota had put out plates piled high with her favorite foods, Dorota's way of saying 'I love you' and 'are you okay?' all at once. She grabbed some fruit and some bacon and started to eat but nothing she put into her mouth had any taste. She sipped at the cup of coffee made just how she likes it and all it did was burn her mouth. Blair picked up the paper and tried to look at it but she found herself reading nothing, just staring at the words on the page.

Dorota materialized in the doorway and Blair looked up at the clock which read 9:15. She opened her mouth to say what she said every morning, but this time she just felt sad as she prepared to send Dan away again.

"Lonely Boy not here." Dorota said succinctly, her face unreadable.

Blair closed her mouth.

He had broken her when he slept with Serena. Now she had broken him.

She thought about the note she had left on the post it, just a few words scrawled quickly, but she had known as she wrote them that they would be the end of this thing they'd ended tangled up in. That's what she wanted, wasn't it? To finally be done, so she'd written them and left them for him. Now they she pictured them, what they said, what they meant, and she knew Dan had gotten her message.

...I'm too sad around you...

Blair thought she could do it, be around Dan, try to get past what had happen, but she couldn't. There would be no forgiveness. At least not today.


	7. Chapter 7

Dan didn't come back. Not the next day or the day after that.

The buds on the trees turned to leaves and Blair would take walks in Central park or spend her afternoon with her yoga teacher, twisting herself into all sorts of positions. It had been weeks since she left the loft and Brooklyn behind for good.

Still, every morning she would find herself glancing at the clock at 9:15 and Dorota didn't appear in the doorway like clockwork anymore, then Blair would go back to breakfast and reading the paper of finishing a chapter in the latest novel she was devouring.

Blair never heard from Serena, and she was glad about this. Eleanor had stopped by once and mentioned that Lily had mentioned Serena going on some sort of spiritual journey and involved orphans in India and slum children and Blair had a vision of the golden goddess bringing relief to the children of the world, an UES Angelina Jolie, then spending her nights chanting in temples and finding spirituality, surrounded by adoring, handsome men. If anyone needed spirituality, it was Serena. She was sure whatever it was would last a whole five minutes until Serena Van der Woodsen set her eyes on something else.

She and Nate would meet weekly for tennis doubles, and then they would sip juice concoctions in the club restaurant and he'd tell her stories about the Spectator and the latest salacious gossip about various residents of the Upper East Side and Blair would smile her most practiced smile and try to pretend she cared. Sometimes Nate would slip up and mention Dan in casual conversation, despite her warnings that his name should never be mentioned again, and Blair would glare at him across the table, and Nate's words would falter and fade away, and he had a look like he wished Blair would be open to listening to what he had to say, but he always shut up and moved on to some other topic, like the weather or gold futures.

One time Nate had let slip that Dan was looking pretty rough. Blair glared at him and responded with a curt, 'good'.

Most of the time Blair would sigh, play with the straw in her glass and continue to ignore Nate, trying not to think about Dan, who was now officially part of her past. She'd gotten skilled at not thinking about him. She should get paid to not think about Dan Humphrey, she was so good at it.

Except at night. Blair couldn't stop her dreams.

Weeks turned into months and the sun came out and there were parties and Blair started venturing out, to exhibits, films. She usually went out by herself, but sometimes Nate joined her, staring at some modern art painting hanging on a bare white wall of a gallery Blair dragged him to, looking confused as Blair gushed about its the movement and use of color and utter brilliance. He's nice enough to say 'yes' the next time she invites him out even though Blair knows it's not his thing and he'd rather be playing a pickup game in the park on his Saturdays.

Dan would have loved this. Blair shakes her head and banishes that thought from her head.

Blair even manages to pull off some awkward flirting, at least it feels awkward but Blair doesn't realize that she will never be awkward no matter how hard she tries. Blair Waldorf carries a natural kind of grace that shines through everything she does. She ends up spending a couple hours having a somewhat interesting conversation at one of the many openings she attends with a somewhat handsome man. He tells her he's seen her before. She bats her eyelashes and ends up with his phone number at the end of the night.

She never calls and the phone number is tossed into a nearby garbage can as she heads toward the town car to go home. Blair would rather be alone.

It seems like everyone else thinks Blair should be alone. Except for Nate accidentally mentioning Dan, people pretty much leave her alone, never asking her what happened or why they broke up. There is no impassioned plea from Rufus to give his poor, heartbroken son another chance, no call from his little sister telling her Dan isn't doing so well. Serena isn't around to plead his case yet again, to tell Blair to just get over what happened and give him another chance. It seems everyone has decided to let it go.

Blair's okay with this.

With neither Serena or Dan in her life, Blair barely sees Rufus or Lily, except at various charity events and then always across the room, and neither of them make an effort to talk to each other. Blair is okay with this too, because being around Rufus makes her too sad, so she's fine with the distance they all keep from each other.

Serena has moved on to Africa and Blair reads about her on page six and sincerely hopes she doesn't follow the latest celebrity trend of accessorizing with an adopted African orphan.

The only person who even tries to tell Blair what to do is Dorota, and even then it's not with words. Some days, when the clock hand clicks to 9:15 Blair looks up to find Dorota standing there looking at her with a look on her face that says she's thinking about Lonely Boy and maybe life is complicated and messy and maybe people can be forgiven, all in one glance. A look that says she wishes things were different. Blair just glares at her and sends her to fetch something, dry cleaning, a pot of tea, anything to get her to stop looking at her with that look.

Things aren't different.

Dorota had always liked Dan too much.

The pain is still there. It never really goes away. Blair starts to realize that some things will stay with you forever and it's foolish to think they can be banished. The sting has become something familiar, something she can live with. Most of the time.

She'd loved him. Nothing would ever change that.

Sometimes she finds a memento of that time which feels like not just a lifetime ago but that it happened to someone else. It might be a program from an exhibit they attended together with Dan's notes jotted in the margin that she finds stuffed in the bottom of a bag, or a picture she took with her cell phone of him, smiling at her, his face happy, sunglasses on and she remembers that day that he drove her to the Hamptons and they walked on the beach, sand in their toes, fingers linked together and everything was perfect. They were so happy.

That's when the pain becomes too much to bear and Blair spends a day in bed so no one can see her cry, and even Dorota doesn't bother her.

Living with the pain has it's hard moments.

Summer passes and now Serena is in Prague doing some modeling, her good will ambassador tour over for the moment, and she sends an email to all her friends telling them how amazing her time in Africa was, and she somehow includes Blair in that list. Blair deletes the email without reading it.

The leaves of the trees had become dull green from the summer heat and now their edges are starting to tinge with yellow and red and some of them start to drift down to the ground. The days are starting to get shorter and cooler, and when she walks in the park now her feet kick at leaves on the path and they crunch under her feet.

Blair starts to think about school, that maybe it's time to go back and figure out what she wants to do with her life. Once prestige and pedigree were all that mattered, but now she decides she just wants to start slow and be close to home, so she settles on a cinema history class at NYU. Blair is excited as she packs her laptop and a notebook and pens into her Burberry backpack the night before classes start.

They do French cinema in class and Blair finds herself smiling, remembering debates over coffee with Dan and she discovers that she can have this memory without it hurting too much. Then the professor mentions that they're showing Nenette again at some theater she's never heard of, and Blair is suddenly seized with the urge to see it again.

It might have been called their first date, Blair sitting primly three rows away and five seats over, a small bag of popcorn resting on her lap, and she didn't even pay attention to the fact that Dan Humphrey had invaded her universe. She'd walked out of the theater, blinking in the sunlight and Blair remembered she'd been surprised to see him standing there, his own half-eaten bag of popcorn gripped in his hand and she would later learn that Dan would always takes his popcorn home if he didn't finish it, and she would tease him about it.

Nenette had captivated her and instead of going their separate ways, Blair had found herself walking besides Dan, her face lit up and her hands gesturing wildly as she discussed the film with him. She had argued with him about different points in the film and laughed with him about the funny points, and Blair had gripped his sleeve with her hand and Dan didn't seem to mind this strange camaraderie that had developed between them. They stopped for coffee and kept talking, and Blair remembered being happy.

It was a good day.

Blair decided she would see Nenette again. She told herself it was for class, that she would write a paper on it, but she knew it was a moment of nostalgia she couldn't pass up.

The next afternoon she had the town car drop her off at the theater where the film was playing. She bought her ticket and pushed through the door of the theater. The lobby was shabby and a young man was behind the counter watching her. Blair bought popcorn and noticed how all movie theaters smelled kind of the same, a combination of stale popcorn and dust. She headed into the theater, looking for a seat not too close to the front, not too far back, noticing that her feet were sticking slightly to the floor, not doubt covered with a patina of spilled soda and dropped candy. She found an acceptable seat and sunk down into it, eating her popcorn one kernel at a time, wiping her salty, buttery fingers on a napkin, waiting for the movie to start.

The lights flickered off and the tattered red velvet curtains rolled back with a noisy clank, and the film started to flicker on the screen. That was when the voice whispered in her ear.

"Blair."

It was a dream, a audio hallucination conjured up by too much nostalgia, because she was pretty sure that she was not really sitting in a strange movie theater with Dan Humphrey whispering in her ear. Blair closed her eyes for a moment then opened them and willed the voice to go away.

It didn't. Instead she felt his fingers touch her hair and smooth it and she knew this was real, and he was so close to her, too close, and she felt that familiar ache.

What the fuck?

How in the world had they ended up at the same screening in the same theater? Blair started to get up, go back to her life without him which when he spoke again, and his hand was on her shoulder.

"Please stay."

Blair sat back down and shrugged his hand away. She didn't turn to look at him, just stared forward.

She hadn't heard his voice for so long, only in her dreams, and here he was, whispering in her ear, so close she could feel the heat of his skin. His words were low and rumbling and she closed her eyes again as he spoke softly, quickly, trying to get as much out as possible before she stood up and walked away from him again.

He told her he would never love someone the way he'd loved her. It was impossible.

He told her he'd really fucked up. She agreed with him. It was all really fucked up.

Blair sat frozen, the images on the screen making no sense, trapped by the sound of his voice, then he was gone and she was alone again, and she felt tears start to leak from beneath her eyelids, and she remember the last thing he'd said before he was gone.

"You won't talk to me, and I'm sorry to do this here, now...I just saw you and I wanted you to know...I miss you."

She'd been doing so well without him.

Slowly she set her popcorn down on the seat next to her then with shaking hands she picked up her coat, stood up and walked toward the exit. There was no point to staying to watch the rest of the movie.

Blair blinked in the sunlight as she emerged from the movie theater and she felt momentarily disoriented. She fumbled in her bag for her cell phone so she could call the car and go home and crawl into bed where it was safe to let the tears flow, then Blair glanced up and that's when she saw him, standing on the sidewalk, watching her, his face unreadable. It reminded her of that other day ages ago when she decided to join him instead of turning around and walking away and leaving Dan Humphrey and Brooklyn behind, and maybe if she'd made a different decision then she wouldn't be here now, staring at the boy who she'd loved harder, stronger, more than anyone she'd ever loved before, who had ended up hurting her like no one else could, who had almost destroyed her, and now stood in front of her looking wan and sad and hopeful at the same time, hands shoved in his pockets and Blair knew she really should walk away this time. She really should walk away.

Walk away.

She might hate herself for what happens next, might think it was the stupidest thing she's ever done, might curl up in her bed and cry at how she can't seem to learn her lessons and move on.

She takes a step forward.


	8. Chapter 8

Dan and Blair walked together, side by side, not touching. Blair had no idea where they were going, she'd never been in this neighborhood before. She suspected Dan didn't either. Neither of them said anything.

As Blair had walked toward him outside the movie theater she could see the pain in his eyes and then she was standing in front of him, not knowing what to say, not really wanting to say anything. After a long moment Dan asked her if she wanted to walk. Blair shrugged and answered, 'why not' and they'd started walking, slow, not quite sure where they were going.

Dan didn't look at her, didn't glance over or try to make small talk, just kept looking down at the pavement, or over at the buildings, anywhere but at her. Blair didn't want him to look at her anyway. She didn't want to see those eyes again, the ones that made her feel weak and vulnerable. She would look over at him now and then, never catching his eye, and he looked so weary and worn and good all at once that it made her mouth feel dry and her heart hurt.

She wanted to find a way to say something to him. To make sure he knew that whatever this was, it wasn't forgiveness, or even an open door. It was just a moment, just right here and now. Nothing more but nothing less either. It was basically all she had to give. A walk on a fall day to nowhere. She couldn't find the words so she said nothing, sensing that this wasn't the time for words anyway .

Finally Blair cleared her throat and her voice squeaked a little as she told Dan she needed to go.

"Okay," he answered.

"I'll call the car." Blair said, looking for her cellphone.

"Sounds good." Dan said flatly, carefully, as if he was afraid to say too much.

"Are you okay to get home?" she asked.

"I'll catch a cab."

And that was the most they said to each other. Dan waited with her until the town car pulled up and he opened the door for Blair. She thought she should say something that people say, like 'see you later', but instead she said nothing. The door shut and Blair leaned back into the leather seats and exhaled heavily. When she got home she crawled into bed and Dorota brought her hot tea and honey and Blair cried.

The next day was Monday and Blair woke up and did what she did every Monday: shower, dressed, breakfast, pack up her bag and head to NYU. After three hours of lecture on Eastern European films in the post-communist era, Blair stepped out of the campus building where her film history class was being held, glanced up at the cloud covered sky and wished she'd brought her umbrella. She headed to the parking lot where her driver would be waiting, thinking about the paper she would need to start on when she got home, and then she saw him.

Dan was standing in front of the building, a cup of coffee in each hand, and his back was turned to her so Blair had a moment to study him without feeling like it would mean too much or send the wrong message. His hair was longer than ever, thick, curly, disheveled and if she'd even been his friend she might have suggested that he didn't have to take the crazy writer look so seriously. His jacket hung loosely off his broad shouldered frame, and she might have suggested a tailor if they were on speaking terms. He was wearing one of his many scarves that she sometimes loved and usually loved to hate. Then he turned and their eyes met and Blair saw him smile a little.

Another chink in the wall.

"Hey," Dan said, his voice soft and warm. It appeared their mutual silence was over. Blair hesitated a little then answered back.

"Hi." she said warily.

Dan walked toward her and extended one of the coffee cups in her direction, and Blair didn't reach for it, keeping her arms at her side.

"It's just coffee, Blair."

Coffee wasn't just coffee. It was letting him back in, even if it was just for this moment. A walk wasn't just a walk, it was a chink in the walls she'd built around herself, the ones that had protected her and kept sane. Why did everything feel simple and complex at the same time? She knew she should say no and walk away and be done.

Blair reached out and took the cup.

It was warm in her hand and she knew Dan would have brought her favorite drink, a double latte, two ristretto shots pulled off the top, whole milk, a little sugar added, thick and sweet and not too strong. Some things never change.

They walked slowly to a nearby bench, Blair forgetting about getting home and her paper and that it might rain and everything else. She sat down and Dan sat down next to her, not too close, not too far away, giving her plenty of space. Blair sipped at her latte, the hot coffee burning her tongue a little, words swirling through her head. After yet another long silence, she finally decided what she wanted to say.

"I don't know what this is." Blair gestured at herself and then at Dan. This meaning them, meaning Dan showing up at school and again Blair suspected Dorota's meddling and made a mental note to tell her to mind her own business. "but we are over. You destroyed us when you fucked Serena."

She felt Dan startle and grow tense, her straightforwardness surprising him. He wasn't drinking his coffee, just holding it in his lap, listening. He said nothing, as if he knew there was nothing he could say in this moment. Blair felt the tears start again and realized she'd cried more in the last day than she had in months.

Damn you, Dan Humphrey.

Blair took his silence as tacit approval to continue, her eyes watching him, gauging his reaction, as she spoke.

"I loved you."

Dan winced at the past tense.

"We were perfect, so perfect and beautiful and I'd never felt that way about anyone before," she said quietly, the words hurting as they came out. "I gave you my heart, and I meant it, and I would have never...never slept with Chuck, and you should have known that, should have trusted me enough to know that, no matter what anyone said."

Anyone. Even Serena.

Her cheeks were wet as she said all the words she'd been repeating in her head for the last six months.

"I'll never be able to love anyone like I loved you. Never again. It's not possible. You've destroyed that for me."

"Blair." Dan said hoarsely. She put up a hand to stop whatever he was going to say next, because she needed to get through this. Blair couldn't look at him any longer so she looked down at the pavement, at a food wrapper blowing around, a piece of gum dropped on the ground and flattened by thousands of feet that passed by their daily, a pigeon nearby, bobbing its head and picking at crumbs left by passers by.

"I just need to say this, Dan. I need you to listen. Loving you was a risk for me. I had always imagined that somehow I'd be the queen of the Upper East Side, whether it was with Nate or Chuck, and then with Louie I had the chance to be a real princess, then I fell in love with you, with someone who I had even hated at one point, and I gave up all of that because of you, because of Dan Humphrey, and I didn't care if people gossiped or if Gossip Girl sent out blasts about us, or really anything. I left all of that behind for you. I would never have gone back to Chuck after that. I would have spent the rest of my life loving you. Do you get that?"

Blair knew Dan was looking at her but she still couldn't meet his gaze. She continued to stare down at the pavement, trying not to sob, and she was glad she was doing this in public because she'd be on the floor in a heap if she was at home, and the pain would be starting all over again.

She took a deep breath then managed to look up and turn toward him. He was watching her, his lips a narrow line, his eyes sad, and Blair saw tears in the corners of his eyes, and suddenly she wanted to brush them away, and that was the moment she realized that no matter how far she'd come, this was far from over.

"I'm so sorry, Blair." he said softly.

Blair felt that old familiar anger snap into place with Dan's words. She looked away from him.

"Fuck you, Humphrey," she said shortly. "Sorry isn't enough. It never has been enough."

"Then I don't know what is enough." Dan's voice was shaky and sincere.

Blair didn't know what would be enough for her either. She'd tried anger. She'd tried grief. She'd hurt him like he'd hurt her. Still, nothing seemed to make any of this different. They were still stuck back on that windy night in California with Dan unable to even say that he'd betrayed her.

She didn't say anything for a long time, just sat there watching student pass by with their overloaded backpacks and baggy sweat pants and unwashed hair. Then she thought of something she needed to know, something only Dan could tell her.

"Why did you leave?"

He sighed and fussed with his coat and looked around, as if he could avoid answering her question, then he swallowed hard and started to speak.

"I was always waiting for us to be over, Blair. I didn't have the same confidence you had, I never could get the question of why you'd chosen me out of my head. When Serena told me what she'd seen, it was everything I'd feared, and I just needed to get away, to clear my head."

Dan paused and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"I wanted to head to the Hamptons, just to blow off steam, to be able to think, and Serena said Cece had a house in California, and it seemed innocent at the time, so I went with her."

Blair was silent.

"I should have stayed," Dan finished.

"Yes, you should have," Blair agreed, her voice bitter. He should have stayed and faced her and they would have figured it out and they wouldn't be here.

Dan turned to her and he dared to touch her hand with his, and Blair flinched at the feel of his fingers on her skin, and she thought there would never be an end to her wanting this man no matter what happened. His eyes were sad and soulful and sorry and all kinds of other things, and they made Blair want to start crying again.

"So, where do we go from here?" Dan asked her, and Blair had no idea how to answer, so she fell back on honesty, since honesty was all they really had left between them at this point.

"I don't know."

Blair glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that they been sitting on the bench for an hour, and all of the sudden she snapped back the reality of school work and she realized that the car was still waiting and she needed to go. She took a sip of the coffee that was still in her hand and realized that it was now ice cold, so she leaned over and threw it into a trashcan next to the bench.

"I have to go." Blair said, standing up, smoothing her skirt and grabbing her book bag. Dan sat watching her and she flashed him a tentative smile. She saw his eyebrow arch in surprise at this simple gesture, and she thought after today they'd finally reached some sort of truce. She'd needed to hear his words, to hear why he'd done what he'd done, and while she was not ready to forgive, she had started to move toward it.

"Can I bring you coffee next week?" Dan asked as she turned to walk away. Blair stopped and looked at him. Was she ready for this, to let him back into her life under any auspice, even if it was just one more cup of coffee. She didn't really know the answer. Being alone had made everything black and white, so much less complicated, and now things felt that much more tangled up, but she had also liked being near him and seeing him again, and nothing seemed as simple as it had before she'd agreed to walk with him after the movie last week.

Blair smiled, and she flipped her hair back over her shoulder and some of the old Blair Waldorf sass sparked in her eye.

"Sure. I wouldn't mind that at all."

She walked away from Dan and toward the parking lot and glanced up at the sky which was still cloudy and Blair realized it hadn't rained after all.


	9. Chapter 9

They become friends again. It's all Blair can offer, really all she can handle.

Dan showed up every Monday with coffee in hand, and after their emotionally laden first conversation, things were lighter. They would head for their favorite bench and spend an hour talking, Blair telling him about her class and everything she was learning, Dan telling funny stories about growing up Humphrey and an internship he'd taken at Vanity Fair, or that he was stuck on a chapter of his next book. Then at the end of the hour he would ask her again if it was okay if he came the next week, and Blair liked this. No more showing up unannounced, Dan was making the decision for him to be in her life Blair's and only Blair's.

One Monday as she stood up, brushed off her pants and reached for her book bag, Dan told her that he wasn't going to be able to make it the next Monday. He had an appointment he couldn't out of, and Blair tried hard to keep her face neutral despite the disappointment she felt. She didn't whine about it being two weeks, just agreed civilly and said she'd see him later then.

Sometimes she slips into old patterns, calling him Humphrey and ribbing him and Dan smiles adoringly at her, and then she catches herself because they're not what they used to be, and the way he's looking at her is more than friendship, and she can't go there. It's dangerous to go back there.

One Monday Dan tells her about an art exhibit opening in Chelsea and he hesitates a little before he suggests that maybe they could go together. As friends. Blair tells him that they aren't that good of friends. Not good enough to justify an outing at night, one where she would get dressed up and put on her favorite perfume and they would make small talk over canapes and they might end up walking down the street laughing, arms linked together and it would be too much like a date.

Dan looks disappointed, but he doesn't argue with her. If he's here, sitting on this bench drinking coffee and talking with Blair, it's on her terms. If that's all she can give him, he knows not to ask for more.

Blair finishes her film class and when she receives her final grade she wants to call Dan and suggest they celebrate, and she almost dials his number, but decides it's probably not the best idea. Instead she goes home the penthouse and throws her arms around a very surprise Dorota then tells her to whip up some cups of hot chocolate and call Vanya to tell him she's going to be late, and they put in Breakfast at Tiffany's and watch together.

Film Noir/Neo-Noir is next on her list, and Blair plunges into The Third Man, M, Double Indemnity. Her class is on Thursday and Dan still comes by with his coffee, and he tells her that Chinatown and Point Blank are two of his favorite movies, and when Blair watches them with a bowl of popcorn, she thinks she might have considered inviting him over.

At some point she realizes that it's been over a year since she went to California to find Dan. This makes Blair both sad and happy. Sad to think of the beginning of all the complications of the past year. Happy to think that she's survived and her life is good and entirely her own. Blair goes out to dinner by herself that night, the mark of an independent woman, reads a book while waiting for her food and marvels at how far she's come.

Winter break arrives along with Christmas and there are presents and parties. Blair asks Nate to be her plus one, but he's seeing someone new and offers his sincerest apologies, so Blair flies solo at all the seasonal events, standing at the bar sipping a gin and tonic, and sometimes she's asked to dance, but she always ends the night by going home alone.

Serena has still not returned to the city. Now she's skiing in Switzerland and Blair hears that she can't make it back for Christmas, but she sent cases of Swiss chocolates and absinthe in her stead, and it's so Serena.

Dan shows up at the penthouse on Christmas even and she lets him in despite him violating their unspoken agreement that he only sees her after class, although he does bring coffee and his sheepish Humphrey grin. Blair shows him to the living room and asks Dorota to bring a plate of Christmas cookies to eat with the lattes, and Blair tolerates the way Dorota smiles slyly as she scurries toward the kitchen.

They sit on the semi-uncomfortable formal couch, Blair politely nibbling on a iced sugar cookie and Dan tells her all about ice skating with Jenny in Central Park and how ridiculous he had felt. Blair tells him how the holiday parties are tedious but she still goes because it's something to do, and Dan opens his mouth, about to say something, then closes it, and Blair is positive that he was going to offer himself as an escort with a promise to break the tedium, then doesn't because he knows better.

After a while Blair stands up and stretches and realizes that the sun is starting to sit low in the sky. She'll be expected by Eleanor and Cyrus soon for their traditional Christmas Eve dinner, and her dad had sent his homemade pies along with his apologies for not being able to make it from Paris this year. Dan clears his throat and mutters something about Rufus and Lily expecting him, then he starts to dig in his pockets, pulling out a small, wrapped package and hands it to Blair.

"I forgot, I wanted to give you this."

Blair smiles but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Gifts were not part of their agreement. Only coffee, and coffee on her terms. Dan stammers as he sees the look on her face.

"I...I just saw this and thought of you."

Blair turns the small package over in her hands. It is too small, and she imagines jewelry, and she starts to stammer something about opening it later when Dan stops her.

"Really, it's not anything big, Waldorf. It won't blow up and it won't make you feel bad. It's just something small."

She carefully unties the ribbon and pulls open the wrapping paper. Inside is a small, white box. She opens the lid and pulls out a button, the kind teenagers pinned on their back packs to make a statement. It certainly wasn't jewelry.

...never judge a book by it's movie...

"I just thought it was funny, and you like to read and you like movies, and I thought you might want to pin it on your bag and blend in at NYU." Dan said, his voice tinged with laughter as he imagines Blair actually pinning anything on her Burberry book bag. "Merry Christmas."

He smiles and she remembers how much she loves his smile.

Blair, who was used to diamonds and flowers and expensive gifts flown in from foreign countries fingered the plastic button and smiles. Suddenly she was sad that she hadn't found something for him.

"Thank you, Dan."

Her words are sincere and heartfelt. Then she hugs him and his arms wrap around her and hold her a little too tightly and a little too long, and they both let go and she tells him to say 'hello' to Lily and Rufus.

The next class is Italian Cinema, and Blair things that maybe she'll take the summer off from her grueling one class per quarter schedule and head to Rome for a little bit. She likes this idea and chatters on about to Dan as they shiver on their park bench, even the coffee not keeping them warm, as snow falls thickly around them and Blair is grateful for her friend who will come to keep her company in conditions that everyone is predicting will be near-blizzard sometime overnight.

Her friend.

They have come full-circle. They are back to being friends and Blair doesn't know when the imperceptible shift took place, but when Dan calls her one afternoon and tells her he has tickets to see a movies in the Egyptian series at Moma, Blair doesn't answer 'no' but agrees that it might be a good idea if they saw it together.

It's not a date.

At least that's what she tells herself as she looks through her closet for that perfect Not-a-Date dress and what she tells herself as she spreads shimmering lotion over her skin and what she tells herself as she slicks her lips with lip gloss.

The movie is amazing and afterward they wander through the galleries, and Blair tells Dan that she's not sure if Warhol was crazy or brilliant or just strung out, and they end up sitting on a bench in front of a Pollack, just staring at it for twenty minutes, not saying a word, and they never touch, never link arms or even brush against each other, each careful not to get too close. Blair has forgotten how much she loves this, how much she misses it. Film and art and good conversation.

At the end of the night he walks her to the waiting town car and she tells him she'll take him home and he smiles and mumbles something about that not being a really good idea. Blair smiles and gazes at Dan and realizes that she wants him to kiss her. And the look on Dan's face says he wants to kiss her too, and considering what happened the last time they were in the town car together, she thinks that cab is a good idea.

He's there after class the next week with coffee, the same routine, the same banter and light conversation and Blair is glad that nothing has come from their non-date.

The trees start to bud out and since their night at Moma, Blair starts to call Dan to see if he's around, just on those days when she's knocking around the penthouse with nothing to do and all her homework is done, and Dorota is out running errands and she's feeling out of sorts and kind of lonely, and she tells herself she'd call Nate but he's busy at the Spectator, and Serena is lost to her, but she knows Dan is probably holed up in the loft writing and would like a break. She invites him to escort her on her daily walk through Central Park, and this time she brings the coffee.

He starts calling her as well, as if he's always waiting for her to redraw the lines of whatever this is that they're doing, waiting for her to redefine the rules, and she finds that she's spending an hour on the phone with him just before she crawls into bed, her face covered in a french masque, wrapped in her dressing gown, and when he tells her goodnight and they finally hang up, Blair smile and realizes that she's happy.

The quarter comes to a close and Blair decides that she'll go to Rome after all. It's actually exciting to plan a trip and she throws herself into it, surrounding herself with guidebooks and spending her evenings making spreadsheets and itineraries. She researches ruins and churches and museums that she'd like to visit. She plans out perfect traveling outfits and books hotels.

She doesn't tell Dan that she'd decided to go for sure.

Blair doesn't really know why it never comes up. He tells her about Lily and Rufus heading to Spain for the summer, that Eric will be coming back to stay in the penthouse, that Serena is talking about returning to Africa, neither of them saying what they're really thinking, that they're glad she's staying away. He asks what her next class will be and she's noncommittal. She just doesn't find a way to tell him that she's not taking a class, that she'll be leaving too.

The weather starts to warm up and one afternoon Blair is on the terrace with a glass of lemonade and a good book. School is almost over and she only has one paper to finish, then she'll be done and a few weeks later she'll be off to Rome.

"Miss Blair,"

Blair slips her sunglasses down her nose and finds that Dorota is standing next to the lounger.

"Yes?"

"It's Lonely, uh, it's Mr. Dan."

Blair frowns a little. So far they've stuck to their coffee dates and phone calls and an occasional walk. Now he was here and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She contemplated sending him away and calling him later to see what he wanted, but instead she sighed and told Dorota to send him in. Blair was strong. She could handle this. She'd grown up.

She stands up and stretches, her skin warm from the sunshine, her shoulders bare and her maxi dress flowing around her as she pads inside and toward the foyer.

Dan is standing there wearing a white t-shirt and jeans and looking a little nervous.

"Hey," Blair says, keeping her voice even, trying to remain casual, pretending that she didn't really care why he might have decided to visit her.

"Hi." Dan replies.

Blair offers him lemonade and he says 'no thank you', and they head to the living room, Blair sitting on the couch, Dan taking a seat on the chair across from her.

"What do you want, Dan?" It was Dan today, not Humphrey, it was a serious question, not banter.

Dan clears his throat, and he looks at her and inches forward on the chair where he's sitting, like he can't stand just sitting.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you," he starts, then stops, like he can't find a way to say what was coming next. "It's Serena. She's coming back."

Blair blinks. Serena.

Dan tells her the story he'd heard from Lily that morning. She'd been found semi-conscious, barely breathing and the doctors in Berlin said it was a heroin overdose. Lily had hired a jet and they were flying her back, and there was sure to be press and stories in the paper, although sometimes it seemed like it was everyday that an heiress overdosed.

Blair hasn't found a way to forgive Serena, but she is still her oldest friend, and now she is coming back and she's sick, and there was still what she'd done with Dan hanging out there, unresolved, and it was all too complicated and painful. She wished Serena had just stayed in Europe and partied her life away and never shot up too much heroin, and remained golden and beautiful and far away from her.

Blair trembles, and suddenly Dan is standing and crossing the room to her, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her up into his embrace. His hands are stroking her hair and she is pressing her face into the soft flannel of his shirt that smells like Dan, and he is whispering into her ear.

...I'm sorry Blair...

Blair isn't sure what happens next, or really why it happens. She'd doesn't know if it's because of Serena or because she needs comfort or because Dan being so close is too much for her to manage or if he smells too good or if being in his arms cuts down all her carefully built-up defenses, but she tilts her head up to look at Dan and he is looking down at her like he wants her, no, desires her, and she goes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his lips. Dan startles and pulls back quickly, his eyes searching her face.

"Blair?" It's not a simple question. It's everything. It's asking if this is what she really wants. It was asking if she is sure.

She is. She kisses him again, and he is so familiar and it feels so good, and Dan deepens the kiss and groans like this is what he'd been wanting for so long. Then he's picking her up and cradling her in his arms, his mouth never leaving hers, and he walks out of the living room, still kissing her, and up the stairs, still kissing her, toward her bedroom, still kissing her.


	10. Chapter 10

Blair wakes up alone. She is lying on her stomach, naked, the crisp cotton sheet pulled up to only her hips, her skin cool from the air conditioner. She yawns and stretches a little, then reaches out and feels the other side of the bed, empty and cold. Her heart drops and she wonders why she ever let herself be vulnerable, why she had been naive to thinks things might be different if she let Dan back in.

Once Dan had started kissing her it was like he couldn't stop. His mouth pressed to hers over and over, sweet kisses, passionate kissed, long kisses, short kisses. It was like they were teens kissing in a closet to a timer, getting in as much as they could so they could brag about it the next day at school, except that his hands were busy doing other things at the same time, things most teenagers didn't do.

Blair had ended up naked on the bed, staring up at him, her eyes hooded and hungry and she was surprised how much she missed this, missed him. He quickly pulled off his clothes, t-shirt shrugged over his head making his hair even messier, pants left in a puddle on the floor, then the mattress sagged a little under his weight as he slipped into the bed, and he was next to her, skin on skin, and Blair ran her bare foot up his leg and Dan predictably moaned. Some things never changed. He reached to take her face in his hands and started kissing her again. This time it was slow and sweet, as if he was savoring every moment, every taste of her, and Blair didn't want to think about how long he must have wanted this. She wanted to banish all thought from her head and just feel.

The sex was as good as ever, maybe even better because it was bittersweet and tinged with sadness, and Dan took his time, as if she might finish and kick him out of her bed and they'd be back to coffee and chatting, and nothing more, or maybe even less than that. But Blair didn't think about any of that, just let herself be carried away by his touch and let herself touch him and make him moan and gasp her name. She came, this time slow and deep, the melting unfurling and unfolding in a way that was almost painful until her whole body was gripped and she ended up languid and sinking into the bed and as she felt asleep she felt him stroking her hair.

They fucked two more times that night, once Blair waking to find his mouth making it's way across her shoulder and she shuddered and didn't push him away. The second time in the dim, filtered light of early dawn and she kept her eyes open as long as she could just so she could watch him, then they fell back asleep, and now she was waking up alone.

Fuck.

Blair slides out of bed and doesn't even bother to check how she looks in the mirror. She throws on her dressing gown and heads downstairs to get some coffee and snap at Dorota and not think about the sadness that is welling up inside her all over again. She should have pushed him away yesterday, told him to go to hell, asked him why he thought it was okay after all he'd done to her. She should have never said 'yes'.

She pads across the marble floor, ignoring how it's cold on her feet, to the entryway of the dining room, and then Blair stops and stares.

Dorota is pouring coffee and smiling, and Dan is sitting on the long end of the table with a folded newspaper in his hand, saying something to her, then Dorota laughs and Blair clears her throat, and the happy couple breaks apart, both looking her way.

"Good morning," Blair croaks, her voice rough from sleep and all-night sex, and suddenly she's parched. Dan stands up and he crosses the room and Blair can feel that her eyes are wet, and he takes her hand and pulls it to his mouth then places a kiss on the inside of her wrist, and it's pure sweetness. Blair starts to feel herself unravel and her insides untwist, and she thinks that he has an even stronger effect on her physically than he's ever had before if just his lips on her skin has this much of a result.

"I'm never going to leave again, Waldorf." Dan says softly, only for her ears, and somehow he knew, from the tenor of her voice or the look on her face, that she thought that her deepest fear had come true again.

Blair wonders how she can survive this, waiting for him to leave all of the time, waiting to wake up alone, but she says nothing, just smiles and walks over to her chair. She and Dan sit down and he drinks his coffee while she puts food onto her plate, and he picks up the paper and starts reading, then puts it down to tell her something from one of the articles in the arts section, and it's all very domestic, some sort of strange bliss she could never have imagined when she was sixteen and dreaming of princesses and castles and fairytale weddings.

Sex becomes part of their routine of coffee and phone calls. Dan gets the code to the service elevator from Dorota and he lets himself in, and every night just after Blair has finished getting ready for bed there is a soft knock on her bedroom door and Blair tells him to come in.

Dan is still asking permission to be in her life in so many ways, and Blair still hesitates to give it, although she lets him in every time.

He opens the door and she smiles and he undresses quickly, leaving his clothes neatly folded on the chair instead of in a pile on the floor, and Blair unties her dressing gown and she's naked underneath, then they crawl into bed and Blair moans as his mouth crashes into hers because she's been looking forward to this for hours, although she'll never admit it to him.

The next morning it's small talk and coffee and Blair telling him about her plans for the day and Dan teasing her lightly. Dorota has left an extra set of towels and a toothbrush in Blair's bathroom. It goes on like this for a week. Then another. Blair decides that it's nice.

Serena is back and in intensive care, and Blair finally gets up the courage to visit her. Dan asks if she wants him to come with her and Blair shakes her head 'no'. She still can't stand for them to be in the same room, even under these circumstances, and Serena won't know she's there anyway. She has a tube down her throat and there are whispers around her from the staff.

multi system organ failure, polysubstance overdose, so sad because she's so young

The ICU finally overwhelms Serena's beauty and she is puffy with her eyes rolled back in her head, and Blair tells her that she still doesn't know if she can forgive her even though she knows Serena can't hear her. And Blair wants her to wake up so she can scream at her for so many transgressions. Heroin? Of all things, S. This makes Blair sad because she has a feeling that without all the betrayal and pain Serena had caused, maybe she would have stayed in New York and not left and tried to find a way to numb herself.

Blair doesn't go back.

Her class ends and Blair hands in her final paper and this time she does dial Dan's number to celebrate and they end up drinking in a bar in Williamsburg, eating bar food and laughing and talking and at the end of the night Blair realizes that it's pretty close to a date.

"Am I coming home with you?" Dan asks as they stand on the sidewalk waiting for her town car and Blair snakes her arm through his and smiles up at him, and she's feeling warm and fuzzy, and just a little unstable from the alcohol.

"Where are you every night anyway?" Blair laughs. Dan smiles back in agreement and looks happy.

They end up fucking in the back of the town car.

Rome is coming. It's really only a week away, and Blair still hasn't found a way to tell Dan. There just never seems to be a right time, and things are really good, and Blair doesn't want to ruin it.

Dan doesn't seem to feel the same way because one night he does ruin it. Entirely.

They are fucking, and Blair has straddled his hips, watching him, and she likes it when they have sex like this, where she's all powerful and her hands are free to roam where they want and he's completely under her spell. Dan is slack jawed and his eyes are unfocused and his hips are bucking up and she meets him equally, and then he is coming and chanting her name, like he always does, in this guttural, hoarse, wanting tone, then he whispers something and Blair wishes it had been a little more unclear because it changes everything.

ohgodohgodohgod. Blair. Blair.

I love you.

Dan falls asleep curled against her back, arm draped around her waist and Blair lies there, frozen, paralyzed by words that he had said almost involuntarily. She barely sleeps that night.

The next morning he wakes up and kisses her softly on the cheek and tells her he's going downstairs for breakfast, like nothing happened, like he hadn't violated the terms of their unspoken agreement in the darkness of her bedroom last night. Blair pulls the covers up and hugs her knees to her chest and mumbles something about asking Dorota to send breakfast to her room, although food is the furthest thing from her mind. Dan frowns and assumes she's not feeling well, and he places a sweet kiss on her forehead and tells her to feel better and he'll call her in the afternoon. Blair already knows she'll ignore his call.

Since school is over Blair won't see Dan until he knocks on her bedroom door again that night. When she's sure he has left and headed back to Brooklyn or some coffee shop to write, Blair rolls out of bed and heads downstairs. She grabs her cellphone and dials Nate's number.

"Blair." Nate's voice is happy to hear from her. With Dan back in her life Blair had been seeing less of her dear friend, although he was occupied with yet another girl he was dating, so it wasn't that big of a deal.

Blair told Nate everything. Well, not all the details, knowing her friend didn't really care how Dan's fingers on her skin made her lose all coherent thought. She told him that she and Dan had somehow slipped into Friends with (amazing) Benefits territory and she was actually okay with it and then he'd said that thing last night and now she didn't know what to do.

"For God's sake, Blair," Nate said exasperatedly, "you love him too. Stop making this so complicated."

Blair frowned and almost hung up on him. She'd expected support, not to have Nate tell her the truth she'd been trying to ignore. She loved Dan. She'd never stopped, in spite of him, in spite of herself. Blair smiled a little as she thought that love has this funny way of lodging itself inside of you, and even if things conspire to make it impossible to be with that person, it doesn't mean you don't love him. She would love Dan the rest of her life no matter what happened at this particular moment.

"I'm not sure if that even matters anymore," Blair answered sadly. She'd told Dan over and over during the past year and half, in many different ways, that love wasn't enough. Not when it was built on a foundation of betrayal. Blair hung up the phone not feeling any clearer about what she needed to do.

Could she do this again, place herself into a situation where she could get hurt, let herself be subjected to the Humphrey appeal that cut both ways? Blair didn't know.

She spent the rest of the morning feeling restless and out of sorts, and she snapped at Dorota, and lay on her bed with her sleep mask over her eyes trying to will this away or pretend she'd heard him wrong, but now that those three words, eight letters, were out there they were all Blair could think about.

Then she knew what she needed to do. She pushed the intercom button and yelled for Dorota who scurried to her bedroom door moments later.

"Pack my bags," Blair told her. "I'm moving my trip to Rome up a week."

She needed to clear her head.


	11. Chapter 11

The flight is long and Blair tries to sleep but she's restless and ends up pacing the cabin of the airplane and asking the flight attendants for multiple snacks and drinking a gin and tonic to clam her nerves. She's tired and hates the way the cabin makes her skin feel dry and tight, and she can't get Dan off her mind, and she wishes she had just one xanax to help take the edge off.

Dorota had packed just a carry on. Blair told her she could buy anything she needed once she got there. She'd called her mom and asked if Cyrus could call and have the Rose apartment available earlier than expected, then she was in the town car and on her way to the airport.

Another airport. Blair made her way down the concourse in Rome, her bag rolling behind her. She found a taxi outside then gave them directions to the apartment and leaned back against the seat, the vinyl sticking to the back of her legs. It was hot and she fanned herself with a pamphlet she'd grabbed from a kiosk.

The apartment was just a few blocks from the Piazza di Spagna, and when Blair pushed the door open she found it sparsely furnished and very European. The ceilings were high and there was a small balcony with a table and two chairs. She left her carryon in the hallway and walked around, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. The kitchen was small and the refrigerator had been stocked for her. There were fresh flowers on the marble counter, a bottle of Italian wine and a note from Cyrus telling her to enjoy her stay.

It wasn't a big apartment, only one bedroom, and Blair found the bed to be to her liking, adorned with crisp white cotton sheets that felt good on her fingers, a duvet turned down and another vase of flowers on the bedside table. Cyrus had also mentioned that there was a Vespa in the garage downstairs and Blair thought that would be a great way to explore the city one day.

This would do. It was actually quite perfect.

She unpacked her clothes, which didn't take long since she'd brought so few, then headed out to the balcony with a glass of wine to sit and watch the people walking by below.

Blair grabbed her cell phone and decided it was probably time to turn it on. She'd turned it off for the flight and figured her mom would start to get nervous if she wasn't able to reach her. Despite being an absent parent in so many ways, Eleanor always wanted Blair to call when she reached her destination.

The screen on the phone flickered and Blair set it down on the table and took another sip of her wine. Then the phone vibrated and Blair picked it up to see a slew of text messages had come in. She closed her eyes because she knew who they were from.

She'd been trying to pretend this was the vacation she'd been planning, not an escape from things she couldn't handle.

...call me...

...where are you, getting worried...

...Dorota told me, please call me...

...I don't know what to say...

Neither did Blair.

Blair sat, staring at her phone, and part of her knew that this would hurt Dan, and another part of her wanted to hurt Dan. In so many ways she was still hanging by a thread, waiting for everything to fall apart and the only way she could stay sane was to dictate the confines of her relationship with Dan, to be the one who decided how it happened and when it would progress, and in one single moment he had violated that and Blair was suddenly cut loose from everything that she felt was safe.

Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut.

It wasn't like she didn't love him. She did. She loved him to the point that it hurt sometimes. And she knew he loved her. But it was really fucked up and although she'd found a way to be around him, she had never been able to find a way to make all of the pain and betrayal better. It never left her, stayed with her, forming a lump in her throat, never allowing her to fully let go.

If this was what it was like loving someone, Blair wished she'd never fallen in love with Dan Humphrey in the first place. Maybe she would have been better with Louie or even Chuck. She somehow always been able to keep them at arms distance. Or maybe she would have just been better off alone.

She closed her eyes and she saw his face, eyes dilated, looking into hers and she remembered how his body had shuddered as he uttered those words that had changed everything, and Blair wondered if love would ever be enough for her.

Blair picked up her phone and looked at it for a long moment, then she decided she would send a text back, short and simple, just because she knew how it felt to be left behind and have no idea what was going on.

...okay. need some time...

She wondered if she would ever not need time. It was starting to feel like it might be better to walk away and deal with the pain, that things had gotten too complicated and even if she never loved someone like she'd loved Dan, she might be able to find some kind of happiness.

Blair smiled wryly. She'd tried that with Louie, and look where it had gotten her.

The sun was getting high in the sky and Blair felt tired and nothing sounded better than to sink into that bed, the sheets crisp against her skin and let herself sleep, but she knew she'd pay later so she decided to pull out her comfortable yet stylish walking sandals and head out to explore a little bit of Rome. Maybe it would get her mind off things.

She returned to the apartment hours later, her body aching from walking and begging for sleep. Blair didn't eat any dinner, just stumbled to the relief of the bed, leaving her clothes in an uncharacteristic pile on the floor and not even bothering to put on her nightgown, enjoying the coolness of the sheets on her skin. She felt herself start to float away as sleep claimed her and if she hadn't been so exhausted she would have felt annoyed that the last thing she thought of before she finally slumbered was Dan.

Dammit.

The morning sun was bright and it woke Blair up and she made a mental note to buy a sleep mask. There was some clinking from the kitchen, and Blair, startled, grabbed the duvet and pulled it up to cover her naked body, then grabbed her clothes from the previous day and threw them on. She peered around the doorjamb toward the kitchen and saw an elderly wrinkled Italian woman puttering around the kitchen. Blair let out a sigh of relief and she did remember Cyrus telling her that there would be a maid at her service, an Italian Dorota. Blair cleared her throat and the woman looked up and Blair gave her a little wave then retreated back to the bedroom. She emerged later having showered and wearing a comfortable dress and sandals to find breakfast, poached eggs on toast and strong Italian coffee, waiting on the balcony and the woman nowhere to be found.

Blair could get used to this.

She decided she would walk again that day and armed herself with a map and a water bottle, a messenger bag to carry things in and sunglasses, then headed out to the ancient streets of Rome.

She walked and walked, taking in all the history and culture around her. It wasn't like Blair hadn't been to Europe before, but it had always been with someone, her family, or Serena, and it was nice to be entirely on her own terms. She ate gelato and drank strong coffee and ate bruschetta sitting at a table in an outdoor cafe in the afternoon. She went to a bookstore and picked up something to read and promised herself that when she got home she would learn Italian, then she remembered that Dan spoke Italian, and for a moment Blair felt sad and a little alone. She shook it off, leaving the bookstore, putting her sunglasses on and heading toward the apartment. It was late afternoon and she wanted to crawl back into that wonderful bed and take a nap.

Blair pushed the apartment door open and she heard some noises from the kitchen and she thought that whoever Cyrus had hired was truly excellent.

"Ciao!" Blair called out, not wanting to repeat the surprise of the morning. She threw down her bag down on the couch and headed to the bedroom to freshen up, splashing a little water on her face, then headed back out to the living area, mentally trying to figure out how to ask what was for dinner in her halting Italian when she froze.

It wasn't the maid.

Dan was standing in the middle of the room. Blair blinked, like if she could just shut her eyes and open them again Dan Humphrey wouldn't be standing in the middle of the room watching her warily, with obvious trepidation. But he was still there when she opened her eyes, looiking exhausted and rumpled, dark circles under his eyes, like he'd been flying all night and Blair realized that he probably had been. He looked down at the ground briefly then back up at her.

"Hi, Blair."

What the hell?

Blair took a step backwards, her mouth open, unable to think of anything to say. Dan took a step toward her, his hand extended, as if he was about to explain.

"No." Blair whispered. She had left to get away from him and everything he symbolized and here he was standing in front of her, and this was a major violation of their terms.

"I can't do this anymore," Dan said quietly. "I had to follow you, to find a way to finish this."

Finish? Blair gulped. Is that what she wanted to happen, to be finished?

"It doesn't make anything different if you run away," Dan continued. "I know this. I tried it and it fucked everything up."

That was a well-established fact in their relationship.

"I know why you left."

"You..you do?" Blair stammered.

"I do," Dan said emphatically. "and I can't keep doing this. I can't live my life being terrified that the moment I tell you the truth that you'll walk away."

Blair was silent.

"I love you."

The statement hung between them in the empty room. Blair could hear the sounds of people walking by and the rumble of a motor scooter on the street.

"I will never stop loving you. I would marry you right now if you wanted that. I want to build a life with you. I want children and to grow old. I don't want just friendship or fuck buddies. I want more. I want you."

He'd said those words before.

Blair felt the wood doorjamb on her back and she hadn't realized that she had been backing up. It was cold on her back. Dan was closer to her, not even a foot separating them. She thought she could reach out and touch him and this might all be over, but Blair couldn't will herself to move.

"You keep telling me that love isn't enough," Dan said softly. "I get that. I get that I fucked up. But honestly, Blair, at this point love is all I have left to offer. I don't know what else to do."

"Dan," Blair croaked, feeling like she was being torn into a million tiny pieces with his words.

"No," he spit out, his voice suddenly sharp and a little forceful. "I've rehearsed this a million times and I need to finish."

Blair closed her mouth and just watched him. He took a deep breath and started talking again.

"I'm done, Blair. Whatever we're doing, it's not working. I'm not leaving, I said I never would do that again, but I also can't stay here any longer, in limbo, waiting for you to be ready."

Tears were starting to flow down Blair's cheeks as she stared at him.

"When you're ready, you know where to find me."

Dan closed the distance between them, he took her face in his hands and just looked at her for a long minute, like he was trying to memorize her every feature. Then his head dipped and he captured her mouth in a kiss that Blair would remember her entire life. It was bittersweet and the past year and a half flashed before her eyes. All the love and anger and betrayal mixed together and Blair started to sob against his lips.

"No."

Dan broke the kiss and his hands released her face and he traced a tear that slid down her face.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. Then he was gone and Blair was alone, standing in the Rome apartment that had seemed so perfect earlier. She felt her body start to shake and she slid down the doorjamb onto the hard wood floor, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking and wishing she wasn't so far away from home, and he name was on her lips, echoing in the empty room, ripped from somewhere deep inside her. She felt her heart start to crack, and it wasn't like it hadn't been broken before, but this time felt different, deep. Blair's hand went to her mouth and she bit down on her knuckle to keep herself from screaming into the empty room.

...Dan. No, please no...


	12. Chapter 12

Blair couldn't move. She was crouched on the floor, leaning against the doorjamb, staring at the door that had shut behind Dan, his words echoing in her head.

...I'm done...

She remembered a day, what seemed like a long time ago, she and Dan were lying on a blanket in Central Park. Dorota had packed them a picnic lunch along with some champagne and Blair was feeling warm and bubbly and happy. Her head was resting on Dan's chest, tracing patterns across the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He was absorbed in his latest book, answering her occasional question with an absent, 'hmmmmm'.

"When did you first know you liked me?" Blair asked, feeling languid and warm from the afternoon summer sun.

"I've always liked you." Dan answered, his nose still stuck in his book.

Blair laughed a little. He had told her what he'd told Rufus all those years ago, something about her being a package of girly evil.

"Really?" Blair asked. Dan put his book down and peered down at her upturned face.

"Really," he answered. "I never hated you, Blair."

"Not once?" she asked, her fingers still tracing patterns, slowly going back and forth.

"No, not once," Dan said. "I found you annoying, and aggravating, elitist and stuck up at times, but I've always liked you."

She smiled at him and Dan smiled back.

"Um, I think elitist and stuck up could mean the same thing, Humphrey," Blair said, then continued on the same vein, "Even before all of...this, before us and all this?"

Blair gestured to him and back to herself, meaning all the hand holding and kissing and fucking, and she blushed a little when she thought about how he'd woken her that morning.

"Yes." Dan answered.

"Why?" Blair asked. It was an honest question. Blair Waldorf could be manipulative and play games, could verbally cut you to the quick, could scheme and didn't care how much destruction she left in her wake, and the person who knew this best was Blair Waldorf herself. She still didn't quite get what Dan could like about her, she wasn't always sure she liked herself, "You know how horrible I can be."

She'd used that word before, standing in the hallway of the hospital, feeling open and vulnerable and scared that she'd realized that what she'd thought would never happen had actually come true. She'd fallen for Dan Humphrey of Brooklyn and he'd gone from being someone she called names and mocked to being one of the most beautiful, wonderful, self-sacrificing people she'd ever known, and how could he ever want someone as horrible as she was.

"Blair," Dan sighed, as if had covered this ground before, "really, you're not horrible. You're actually pretty great."

"Really?" Blair wondered if he said it enough times she would start to believe it, and if she believed it, she might actually be able to become someone who wasn't horrible.

"Yeah, really."

They were quiet for a while longer, Dan back in his book, Blair watching people pass by; jogging, walking, families out for a walk, children dragging behind their tired parents, people walking their dogs, all out enjoying a sunny summer afternoon, her mind racing.

"So, when did you know?" Blair asked after a while.

"When what?" Dan asked, putting his book down again.

"You know, when did you know I wasn't all that bad?"

Dan started to sit up and Blair rolled over and pulled herself into a sitting position, until they were both sitting cross-legged, knees touching each other. She made note again that she liked his eyes, how they were warm and radiated something sweet and loving.

"Do you remember that big fight you and Serena had, a long, long time ago? Something about modeling and your mom choosing Serena over you?"

Blair nodded, "You came and talked to me afterward."

"I'll never forget you sitting in that hallway and you looked so sad, but you still managed to insult me."

Blair laughed. Of course she had managed. She wasn't going to let anyone see her that vulnerable, let alone the boy Serena was slumming with.

"I just realized that you could hurt like anyone else, and you weren't that bad after that. Then I got to know you more, and we had a lot in common, and then I realized that you were someone I really, really liked."

Dan had leaned forward and captured her mouth in a kiss, the kind you give your girlfriend on a summer day in the middle of Central Park, and Blair remembered that she had been happy.

There had been a lot of happiness with Dan, more than she'd known with anyone else.

Now, as she crouched on the floor, that day was the one memory that surfaced, and she remembered Dan telling her that everyone hurts, that pain is a universal condition that they all share, and that it can make a person more human. That it had made her more human for him.

If there was one thing Blair had learned in the past year and a half it was that she was human, a very flawed human.

As Blair thought about the last year and a half and how messed up everything had become, for the first time she was able to see the good. Dan waiting for her, never walking away, respecting her conditions of friendship. They had spent hours on their bench, coffee in hand, talking, debating and getting to know each other again. He always knew how to make her laugh and he was smart and there wasn't ever a moment that she found him tedious or boring, which was more than she could say for most other men she'd dated, even Chuck. Whatever it was that they had together, it was somehow more than they'd ever shared before he ran away to California and she followed him. They were bonded by tragedy, like two people who had survived a great catastrophe and they had ended up being the only two who really understood each other.

Now all of that was gone.

...I'm done...

Blair thought about Chuck and how he had told her that they were never done. His love had been oppressive and suffocating, and he had never allowed her to participate in their relationship, always dictating the terms, and suddenly Blair realized that she hadn't done anything different with Dan.

Now he was gone, and Blair realized that she was done too. Done making him pay, done extracting her pint of blood for his betrayal, and she saw his face as he told her that love was all that he had left to offer and she realized that it was all that she had too.

She loved him.

Blair had told herself that the game-playing Queen B of the upper east side had dissipated, that being with Dan had helped her grow up, that facing betrayal had made her mature, that being alone had made her an adult. But now she realized that she'd been playing her biggest game of all, keeping Dan at arms length, making him prove himself to her over and over when she'd never stopped loving him in the first place.

Sometime, she didn't really know when, couldn't say which day it was or any specific moment in time, something had shifted. Blair sat with the hardwood floor cold and hard underneath her, she realized that loved actually was enough, and that she loved Dan and that he'd walked out of her life.

She knew what she needed to do. She needed to find Dan. She needed to tell him taht she loved him.

The suddenness of this revelation jerked Blair to her feet and she grabbed the keys she'd thrown on the entryway table and pushed the apartment door open into the hallway. She scrambled down the marble staircase, her feet slipping a little, her hand on the railing to keep from falling.

...no no no no...

She willed her feet to go faster.

...hurry hurry...

Dan had said she would know where to find him, but she didn't. She had no idea where he was staying in Rome and if she didn't stop him, she didn't know how to figure out where he was staying, because Blair didn't want to spend another hour or even another minute without him.

Bursting through the door she stared frantically down the street, on direction then the other. Then she saw him.

He was walking up the hill, about three blocks away, his shoulders slumped, hands shoved into the pockets of his well-worn jeans, just about to round a corner and he'd be out of her sight. Blair took a deep breath and called out his name as loud as she could.

"DAN!"

People turned and looked at the woman standing in the doorway, her eyes wild, panting a little. Dan stopped, holding still, but he did not turn around, and later he would tell her he wasn't sure if he was hearing things, didn't know if her voice was his imagination playing tricks on him. Blair took a deep breath then willed her legs to start moving again, one foot after another, feet pounding the cobblestones.

...faster faster...

Dan turned around just in time to find Blair flying towards him, then she was leaping into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs wrapping around his waist. Dan's hand came up to stabilize her as he stumbled backwards a little with the force of Blair's 95 pounds, and his mouth fell open but he was unable to speak due to Blair kissing him over and over, clumsy, urgent kisses, on his cheek, his nose, the corner of his eye, his jaw and finally on his mouth, and finally Dan broke away enough to look down at Blair and smiled.

"Blair," Dan said hoarsely.

"Shhhhhhhh..." Blair manage breathily and kissed him again. And again.

Blair dropped her legs down to the ground but she didn't let go of him, moving her hands from around his neck to his waist and she stared up at him, and she saw tears in his eyes and that's when she realized she was crying too, and she sputtered and gasped, trying to catch her breath and finally managed to spit out what she should have said a long time ago.

"I love you."

It wasn't enough, so she said it again, her voice filled with happiness and joy, that she had finally let go of everything. Then again, repeating it as if she could never say it enough.

...I love you I love you I love you...

Dan smiled again and crushed her to his chest and murmured in her hair, and despite having traveled all night from New York to Rome, he smelled good, and he let out a big sigh and relaxed a little against her.

"Finally."

They stood like that for a long time, swaying, wrapped around each other, unaware of the people who passed by the couple, smiling or whispering or just ignoring them. Dan's hand rubbed Blair's back over and over and she thought that she would never forget this moment as long as she would live. The afternoon light, the warm sun, and Dan in her arms and no more pain or complications, just a girl and a boy in love with each other.

Dan finally pulled back and grinned down at her and Blair could see that he was happy, and she felt happy and nothing else mattered at that moment.

"So what now," he asked.

Blair shrugged, her face smiling and she felt like she might never stop. "I don't know." she said. She was finally free of all agendas and concerns and the entire world had opened up in front on her. Anything was possible.

"We could go back to the apartment and..." Dan said, grinning wolfishly. Blair playfully socked him in the arm at this suggestion.

"Not a good idea, buddy. You'll fall asleep afterward and that won't help jet lag and we can do that pretty much anywhere. We're in Rome!" she squealed happily and let in go long enough to throw her arms out. "ROME!"

Dan wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her close and she put her arm around his waist,hooking a finger in his belt loop and bent her head toward him. They started to walk, side by side, not particularly sure where they were heading, slowly making their way down the street, bumping hips softly as they made their way down the street.

"I know a great outdoor cafe," Blair suggested. "I found it earlier today."

"Mmmmm, that would be nice. I'm going to need coffee if I'm staying up."

"Or we could find a park and you could read me poetry in Italian and feed me grapes." Blair suggested, smiling at the image she conjured up in her head.

"Waldorf, you're ridiculous." Dan smiled, as if he couldn't stop smiling either.

"There's no way you're going to get way without reading me poetry in Italian, Humphrey. You might as well accept your fate. Rome is all about romance. You're going to have to kiss me at sunset as well."

"And after sunset." Dan's voice was suggestive and gravelly, as if he were imagining kissing her right at that moment. He looked at her with one eyebrow cocked, grinning again, "And the middle of the night."

Blair giggled. They turned the corner and headed down another narrow street. Dan continued.

"...and in the morning. I'll definitely need to kiss you in the morning. And on that balcony. Maybe in the shower. And for sure right now."

They stopped and Dan leaned down and kissed Blair and everything was right in the world.

~the end~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it wasn't obvious, the title is taken from the song Mad World, originally done by Tears for Fears and magnificently remade by Gary Jules. Thanks so much for reading - this has been a labor of love and I'm sad to see it done. I'm glad people appear to have enjoyed it. There will be no epilogue, but Dan and Blair are happy and I think they'll stay that way in my universe.


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